


Summer Shivers

by Lucivar



Series: Summer Shivers [1]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: All Over Again, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternative Universe - FBI, But is in a metal band, Everyone ships bughead, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, FBI Agent Jughead Jones, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Idiots in Love, JB has Ruby Rose vibes, Jealous Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Loving Parents, Mutual Pining, Mystery, One Big Happy Family, POV Alternating, Protective Jughead Jones, Reporter Betty Cooper, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Weddings, light kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 127,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25785889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucivar/pseuds/Lucivar
Summary: Betty’s big brother, Special Agent Charles Cooper, is getting married to Kevin Keller.Betty has returned to Riverdale for the summer holidays to help her mother set up for the "wedding of the century” while completing her internship withThe Registerand hanging out with her best friends: Veronica and JB.When a lead that Betty is investigating takes a dark turn, Charles’s best man and partner, Special Agent Jughead Jones, decides to stay in town to help her out.Or,Betty gets what she wants.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jellybean Jones & Betty Cooper & Veronica Lodge, Jellybean Jones & Jughead Jones, Jellybean Jones/Veronica Lodge, Jughead Jones & Original Charles Smith (Riverdale), Kevin Keller/Original Charles Smith (Riverdale)
Series: Summer Shivers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973374
Comments: 853
Kudos: 358
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this goes from cute fluff mixed with Jughead being a stubborn mule and sexual tension (because I am here to add to the tension) to cute bughead kinky sexy times and investigations  
> As it stands I think this story will be 18 chapters plus epilogue.  
> Rated explicit for later chapters. Sorry, turns out I can only write PWP or slow burns. Yikes.  
>   
>  **FYI: Everyone's ages are MESSED UP**  
>  Veronica, Betty, JB, Cheryl, Reggie and Archie are 21  
> The Serpents, Polly and Jason Blossom are 24  
> Charles, Jughead and Kevin are 27
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I love comments <3

“Betty!” Screeches Veronica as she walks into Pop’s. JB, the epitome of chill, nods in her direction. 

“V, JB,” Betty gushes as she reaches their favourite booth. She leans over and pulls them each into a long, warm hug, conveying her love for her soul sisters who lived miles away from her. 

“How are you both?” Betty asks when she sits down next to JB, facing Veronica. 

Veronica starts, “So good! I’m loving my fashion design course; it’s super interesting. Plus Cali is honestly just amazing. I wish you lived with me!”

Betty shakes her head. She is in her penultimate year of studying a Bachelor of Arts (Journalism) at Northwestern University, at the Medill School of Journalism, Media and Integrated Marketing Communications. It is a highly regarded school and Betty is trying to give herself the best chance to break into the competitive and challenging industry. 

She had first been snapped up by the allure of investigative reporting when she was at high school, working for the _Blue & Gold._ She had uncovered a host of stories while at the school: the racist locker allocations, the illegal sale of Southside High and the bottled water racket. She loved the idea of digging into something so messy and pulling apart the threads of motive, facts and lies to weave a compelling narrative. 

“I love what I’m doing V,” Betty assures her and Veronica pokes out her tongue, “How are you going JB?”

JB and Betty have been friends since they were toddlers. JB’s parents: Gladys and FP Jones are her own parents’ best couple friends. 

They used to spend countless nights together on sleepovers, spying on their respective older brothers, Jughead and Charles, making up dances, playing dress up and talking about boys. They were polar opposites in many ways: JB is a laid-back genius, much in the same way as Jughead, and Betty is precise and on the ball, constantly needing to move and act out her plans. 

When the three of them found out their schedules had aligned to return to their hometown, Riverdale, Betty was delighted. It has been almost a year since she has seen them last, having missed the trip back last Christmas due to her endless piles of assignments. Veronica and JB sent her a series of stupid videos and tagged her in countless Instragram posts, making her feel both loved and sad at the same time. 

Veronica was a latecomer into their little duo: she arrived in Riverdale when she was fourteen and stormed into the school like she owned the joint. It took all of Veronica and Cheryl tearing up the school with their respective mean girl stunts before JB had literally slapped Veronica across the face one day and told her to pull her shit together. 

“Veronica, so help me god I will slap you again unless you snap out of this bullshit,” JB yelled at her, towering over Veronica with her tall, lanky frame. Betty stood nearby, watching warily, chewing her nails down to the quick. 

Veronica looked so offended that Betty was wondering if she was going to have to get between the fighting girls and put an end to this before it could escalate when Veronica sighed loudly. 

Her next words dramatically changed the course of their relationship, “Oh! No one has ever spoken to me like that before.”

JB growled at her, teeth bared, “Well, I will always tell you when you’re being an impossible little bitch. I’m not like your dad who is too afraid to discipline you.”

Veronica’s face went horribly red and yelled back, still cradling her injured cheek. “Good! I wouldn’t want you to stop being yourself!”

JB snarled back, jabbing her pointed finger at Veronica, “Great, because I like the real you!”

And weirdly, that was that. 

Following that moment Veronica became a permanent fixture in their group and she mellowed out to the extreme. Betty and JB learnt that Veronica was often left home alone in her giant mansion, with nothing but a butler for company. To this day, she is spoilt rotten and doted upon, but her parents are never around: she is given presents as apologies and excuses for their absences. Hermione Lodge is a well-renowned actress and still spends several months of the year abroad filming in exotic locations. Hiram Lodge owns a technology empire in automated logistics that he built from the ground up when he was twenty. He spends his time constantly pitching for funding, attending board meetings, starting new ventures and responding to interviews. 

How it was clear to JB, amongst all of that family drama and high school bullshit, that Veronica was just lonely, Betty would have no idea. 

Now, Betty turns to JB and takes a good look at her. JB always appears like she has stepped off the set of a particularly violent rock gig and is currently running her black-painted fingernails through her long black hair. If Betty didn’t know her better, she would have said JB was nervous. 

JB exhales and reaches for the mint chocolate thick shake that is in front of her. Betty checks out JB’s wiry, muscular arms covered in tattoos. Her friend looks good; she’s not ashamed to admit it. Sometimes when Betty looks at JB, she is reminded of her older bro…

_Nope, don’t go there._

JB takes a long sip, slurping the liquid loudly through the straw; Betty rolls her eyes and slaps her hands. “Tells us, JB, what’s up with you?”

JB leans over the table and crooks her eyebrow up, “We got signed.”

“What?” shrieks Veronica, her voice reaching every nook and cranny of the entire universe. “That’s amazing!”

JB and her nu-metal band “The Southside Serpents” have been trying to make it since JB was in high school. JB is their lead guitarist and she was trained on classical guitar, which JB claims, lends itself perfectly to metal. Betty just takes her word for it, not being particularly musical herself. 

JB's lip curls and she rubs her ear before she says, “I know. Finally!”

Betty gives her a long hug, murmuring, “I am so proud of you, I know how hard you’ve worked for this!” 

JB smirks out from under one of Jughead’s old beanies, despite it being ninety degrees outside; JB never takes that thing off. 

“Yeah, I am fucking stoked,” she agrees, “I can’t believe it has finally happened! I guess I can thank Spotify for helping me get discovered.”

“And all your training, blood, sweat and tears,” Veronica reminds her and JB looks a little flushed. 

Betty smiles, “Didn’t you learn how to scream for your latest track, too?”

JB nods with a huge grin, “Oh yeah, I got a scream coach and everything.”

Betty looks at her with surprise, “A scream coach?”

Veronica interrupts, “JB,” she asks, eyes flicking to JB’s startling blue ones, “May I?”

JB nods and gestures her hand as if she is giving Veronica the floor. 

“Vocal chords are really precious Betty and it takes a long time to learn how to scream well without damaging yourself. Lots of really famous singers have had vocal chord injuries and they don’t even put them under the same strain as a screamer.” When she finishes, Veronica looks at JB for approval. 

Betty is impressed with both of them, “Of course, makes total sense! Well, I am glad that you’re taking care of yourself JB.”

Veronica reaches her hand across the table to JB and says, “Me too.”

JB blushes, looking between them both, and Betty can’t help but think that she’s utterly adorable. She is instantly reminded of that same look three years ago at Christmas when Jughead came home. Her heart starts pounding her throat and she quashes the feeling dramatically. 

“Will you play some stuff for us while we’re here?” Veronica asks, her hand on JB’s. 

JB raises her eyebrows and says, “Yeah for sure, I’ve got us a booking at the Whyte Wyrm in a few weeks actually. You and Betty have to be there as my fan girls.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Betty promises excitedly and Veronica is nodding with enthusiasm.

JB, being almost a head taller than the two of them, stares levelly and sighs, “Yeah but like, it’s the Whyte Wyrm you know and I will be playing a rock set, so you both have to…” she looks them both up and down and says with a smirk, “Dress for the occasion.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Veronica asks, affronted, as if she forgot that she is presently dressed in a Ted Baker “casual” summer dress with a Tiffany locket adorning her elegant neck. 

JB crosses her arms and leans back in the booth. Her pierced eyebrow arches perfectly and she grins suggestively. “Well, Miss Lodge, I’m talking mesh, leather, chains, black, lace, PVC… you know… get fucking dirty…metal?”

Veronica makes a sound in the back of her throat and JB looks at her strangely. 

“Uhhh, okay,” she says and Betty can see her designer brain whirring into gear as she thinks through the implications. When a certain thought seems to click, Veronica says primly, “I will make something I suppose. Do you need help Betty?”

Betty gestures over her body, reminding her friends that she was in a white and blue summer dress that had a frilled collar that was purchased two years ago from H&M. Yeah, obviously she needs help with dressing dark. Veronica laughs. 

JB reaches impulsively across the seat and kisses Betty on her cheek. “Fuck, I have missed you two. Riverdale just isn’t the same without you.”

Veronica beams and shares a glance with her before they look at JB. “Aww, you unbelievable softie!”

“I knew you loved us under that tough as nails exterior!” Veronica smiles. 

JB looks at both of them and sighs, “Yes, of course I love you both. But please keep that to yourself as I have a reputation to uphold.”

They share grins. 

“Okay, enough about me,” JB says impatiently, “What’s really new with you two? Catch me up on the past year. You know, school, boyfriends etc. Betty, have at it!”

Betty takes a deep breath before launching into a summary, “Well, um last time I saw you both, I was dating this guy named Tom. Remember him? Tall, kind of sweet?”

JB snorts, “I think you mean boring. The one interesting thing about him was his single-minded obsession with bouldering. But talking about one topic for literally seven hours is enough to put anyone to sleep.”

Betty flicks her with her fingers, “Yeah, like he was very lovely, always made me dinner, was just so nice, but then…”

“What Betty?” Veronica interjects with a worried expression.

Betty continues with a panicked voice, “But then he took up marathons!”

JB flicks her in return, “You utter dweeb, I thought you were going to say something like human sacrifice or some bullshit.” 

She laughs, shaking her head. 

Betty rolls her eyes and says; “Honestly you thought having him talk to you about rock climbing was boring? Try marathons! There’s nothing to them… just running!”

JB cackles with laughter and Veronica joins in after a moment. “Yikes, yeah I take your point. So when did you two break up?”

“Ah it was before Spring Break, so a few months ago.” Betty says, shrugging. “I wasn’t too upset. Then I moved out and got a great roommate, who was super lovely and he went out of his way to do his chores. He keeps asking me to live with him again after summer.”

“Yeah because he’s probably in love with you,” JB comments darkly, pointing the metal straw at her like a weapon. “Everyone is in love with you.”

Betty watches Veronica’s face fall slightly. 

“Uh-huh, not true!” She waves her arms about wildly, and Veronica’s lips flatten into a thin line. JB looks at Betty incredulously. 

“Veronica,” JB says, casting her gaze on Veronica, “Help me out here?”

“Remember Reggie from high school?” Veronica says snottily and Betty finds herself glaring, remembering _that_ incident where Reggie professed his undying love for her in front of the entire school at a pep rally. She just stood there, feeling railroaded until the crowd booed her off for getting cold feet. JB punched Reggie for her after that. 

Betty gasps and places a hand over her heart, “Why would you bring that up? What did I do to deserve this fresh hell?” 

“Moose,” JB points out, uncaringly. 

“He’s gay!” Betty protests. Sure, Moose did spend several years sending her rather explicit Valentine’s Day cards, which she threw in the trash feeling a little creepy. JB once seized one of them, laughing so hard she was crying, and pinned it on to the wall of her own bedroom with a letter opener that was shaped like a dagger. 

“Yeah but he always had a crush on you,” JB snarks back, “You can be gay and still think a member of the opposite sex is cute. It’s not binary, babes, it’s a fucking spectrum.”

“Sorry Queen!” Betty says, bowing her body down to JB across the leather seat. JB snorts at her and tries to poke her ribs. 

JB came out to Betty when she was fourteen. They were both in their bikinis, standing by the tire swing Jughead and Charles had constructed for them on an overhanging branch over Sweetwater River. 

JB turned to her in her black bikini and shorts with sunglasses jammed over her eyes and said, “I like girls.”

Betty didn't quite realise what she was saying and replied, “Yeah me too.”

JB pushed her and emphasised, “No, I mean, I _like_ girls.” 

“Ohh,” Betty remembered saying and then shrugging, “Okay. You’re still you and I love you.”

Then JB pushed her into Sweetwater River and everything was the same as it always was. JB only dated one girl since high school and that was Toni Topaz, around the time that she was nineteen. This is the same Toni Topaz who is now in her band as the singer. As far as Betty knows they are better as friends than lovers as that flame fizzled out after nine months of hell. 

“Quit that, Betty!” JB moans, startling Betty out of her walk down memory lane, scrubbing her hands over her face in frustration. 

Veronica laughs now, joining in with the bowing and scraping.

“V,” JB admonishes, “You’re going to make Betty forget that we were talking about how her new roommate probably loves her.”

Veronica cackles and Betty rolls her eyes, “I love you both, but sometimes you’re the worst. Anyway, studies have been going well, I am really so glad that I am doing journalism, I love every class! Everything is so interesting.”

She bites her lip and continues, “I actually got a summer internship working at _The Register_ part time, so I will be probably spending a lot of my time hanging out there during the day.”

Veronica looks happy and says, “That’s fantastic! Then, us three can hang out in the evening.”

Betty groans, “Yeah, but I will have to spend a lot of time helping my mum with Charles’s wedding, I mean, that is kind of why I’m back here.”

Veronica trills delightedly and claps her hands, “I am so excited about this wedding! Do you need help?”

“Help would be amazing,” Betty nods insistently. “I mean, I love my mom, but spending the next two weeks with her fussing over this wedding is going to kill me. You in JB?”

“Fuck that,” JB snorts and Veronica shoots her an admonishing look. 

“I’ll gladly help you B. You know I love spending time with you and your mom,” Veronica assures her, “Just tell me when and where and I will show up with pink lemonade.”

JB instantly perks up, “Oh Veronica’s pink lemonade? Well I can’t possibly miss out on that can I? Count me in.” 

Veronica smirks and gestures with her perfectly manicured hand, “Voila. The elusive Jones is involved.”

“Joneses are easily manipulated through food,” Betty agrees, feeling a flood of warmth go through her when she thinks of that particular incident with Jughead.

JB smirks at Veronica and says, “Yeah you got me. So remind me when this wedding is again?”

“Two weeks,” Betty says, “But don’t forget the guys are all coming for a bachelor party next weekend. Then it’s the “wedding of the century” as my mother calls it. Then Charles and Kevin are going on their honeymoon to Portugal afterwards and my parents leave shortly after.”

“Yeah, what is with that?” JB asks, curious. “I mean, you’re home for the first time in a long time and they’re going trekking in Alaska?”

Betty laughs and points out, “Don’t you forget that they’re going with your parents too!”

JB laughs as if she has forgotten that minor detail, “Living that retired life, eh?”

She and Betty share knowing looks, remembering the countless gardening projects, cocktail hours, Spanish classes, tango lessons and genealogy groups that their parents had joined and subsequently quit over the past three years. 

“Yeah, but like, you’re home for the first time in almost a year and they just up and leave? That’s got to suck. It’s different for me. I mean, I live here. I see Gladys and FP every week for court-mandated family time,” JB jokes. Betty knows that JB adores her parents even though they don’t always see eye to eye. 

“Yeah, but you don’t live with them,” Veronica says.

“True, true,” JB grins, “Living with the Serpents is so much crazier than living with my boring ex-sheriff dad and ex-teacher mom. Oh my god, could they be any more straight-laced? Probably why Jughead and I turned out the way we did, trying to rebel against their beige existence.”

“What do you mean that’s why you turned out like that? Are you referring to your insouciant style of genius?” Betty quips and JB flicks a balled-up napkin at her. 

“Well that may be true of Jughead, but it’s not true of me,” JB announces and cries out in mock annoyance as a bunch of scrunched up napkins fly her way. 

“Yeah Jughead is smart,” Betty recalls and JB’s smirk is knowing. 

Betty rolls her eyes, but resists flicking another napkin at her best friend, “Oh my god JB, stop that! I do not have a thing for your brother.”

“Yes you do!” JB hisses delightedly and Veronica looks happy, “You always have, ever since we were kids.”

Betty can feel herself blushing but instead says, “Well he was cute and older than me and - whatever stop grinning like that - I was fifteen!”

“And what’s your excuse now?” JB cackles at Betty’s expression of pure horror and says, “All good, I’m just messing with you.”

She gives Betty a hug and Betty supposes she can forgive her. 

JB asks in a small voice, a sign of her feeling a little admonished, “So are you upset about your parents at all?”

Betty grins, “Honestly, it’s fine. Two weeks of living with my parents and trying to plan this hectic fairy tale wedding for Charles, like believe me, I think this is my mom’s dream wedding-,”

“It always is,” JB points out and then shudders, “I don’t want to even think about how my mom will act if I ever go down that route.”

“Well, surely the pressure is on Jughead, right? I mean, he is like nearly thirty,” Betty says, keeping her voice light. She didn’t want to think about him being close to marriage…

JB closes her eyes and moves her mouth silently before saying aloud. “Three. That’s how many times you’ve mentioned Jughead in this conversation.”

Betty growls in frustration and clenches her fists together. JB’s smile is wicked before she says, lip curling into that crooked grin that’s so quintessentially Jughead that it makes her heart hurt. “Thou doth protest too much, dear Elizabeth.”

“Anyway!” Betty exclaims and pushes the conversation back to where it was originally: safer ground. “As I said, two weeks of wedding planning and decoration making will be more than enough for me. Then I will have my job at _The Register_ and I get to have the whole house to myself and you both can come over for movie marathons and day drinking by the pool. It’s the perfect summer plan.”

Veronica sighs, “I really can’t think of anything that I’d rather do.”

“So what about you, V?” Betty asks, “What’s been going on in your world?”

“Well,” she starts, “Fashion is hectic, and I am going to spend a lot of time this summer practicing sewing techniques. So Betty please expect to be my mannequin.”

“Hey!” JB says, affronted, “What about me?”

Veronica waves her arms expressively, “You’ll never let me put you in my clothes, will you? Be honest.”

JB wrinkles her nose and admits, “Yeah, Betty’s a stellar choice for nice dresses and perfect legs, or so my br- I mean, someone I know once said.”

Betty flushes at the compliment. 

Veronica raises her eyebrows and claps her hands together briskly. “Well that’s settled: JB is going to do guitar practice, Betty will become a reporter and I will practice my sewing. What a summer it will be!”

~~~

“Honey,” Alice starts slowly when Betty arrives home after spending the afternoon with her friends, “You said you were going to come visit us first! I was expecting you hours ago!”

Betty sighs and just hugs her mom; she knows Alice is hardly perfect, and it has been almost a year since she’s seen her. Alice sighs and folds into her daughter, stroking her hair back tenderly. 

“I’m so sorry that we are leaving you in a few weeks,” Alice says softly and Betty nods into her chest, feeling a little emotional. “I honestly thought we were going to have more time together and I really thought you were going to come for Christmas. Look, I’m sorry darling.”

“Mom,” Betty breathes, “Stop feeling so bad. I get to spend the next two weeks with you and dad just hanging out and obviously planning the fairy-tale wedding-,” she concedes when Alice looks at her intently, “Plus, it’s been ages since we’ve done that just the three of us without Charles and Polly.”

Alice is a bit teary eyed when she pulls back. “I know, honey, I know.”

Betty gestures to the beaten up car she’s driven halfway across the country with all her earthy possessions and says, “Let me get my stuff. Shall we sit down and have a cup of tea?”

Alice seems reluctant to let her youngest daughter go and pulls her into another hug, “Oh darling, I have missed you so much. Let’s you and I spend some proper mother daughter time together okay? I don’t want my obsession with wedding perfection get in the way of us.”

“I promise mom,” Betty smiles into her mothers’ pressed shirt, feeling loved and cared for. She had forgotten how comforting it was to just be hugged like this. 

Alice is actually crying now and sniffs as she opens the front door, “Let me help you with your things. Then we can try that fresh apple pie I just made.”

“Oh mom!” Betty exclaims. Her mother’s cooking is phenomenal. “Did you…?”

Her mother shoots her a healthy dose of side-eye, “Make you fresh ice cream as well? Yes, I believe that I did Elizabeth.”

Betty’s face lights up and all she can do is squeal delightedly. “Mom, you’re the best.”

Alice gives her a sharp look and says, “Well young lady, let’s see how you feel after two days of living with your father and me again, hmm?”

“Speaking of,” Betty says, “Where is dad?”

Alice rolls her eyes as Betty opens the trunk of the car, “Your father is down at the Riverdale Auto Shop, getting some supplies apparently. You would think that we literally have enough supplies to last us through the next three world wars, and any variation of those Mad Max hell-scape films he so loves so much, but nooooo! Apparently old mustang parts are going out of style.”

Betty snorts, “More like out of circulation due to hoarders like dad.”

Alice laughs and whispers conspiratorially, “You had better not let him hear you say the h-word, Betty. You know how sensitive he gets about his… things.”

Betty grabs her suitcase from the car, shaking her head. Her parents had been together since high school and she had no idea how two people could love each other that much for so long. Alice used to be a nurse and worked most of her life at the Greendale clinic and Hal used to be a local news reporter. JB often lamented dramatically about both of her parents being boring, but between the three of Veronica, Betty and JB, Betty was certain that her parents were the most vanilla. No one could compete with Veronica’s glamorous, rich and famous parents and at least FP used to be the sheriff of Riverdale. All in all, Betty kind of liked it. There was so little drama in her family life that it just gave her time to enjoy being herself, taking up hobbies and delving gratuitously into other people’s dramas via her stories.

As much as Betty loved her mom, she was very much daddy’s little girl. Growing up, it had been her and Hal that had spent the most time together: investigating, researching, playing sports and working on cars. 

She supposed that to some degree she was following in her father’s footsteps in going down the journalism route. Her dad always told her that she had the brains and talent to go a lot further than him, and he pushed her to aim high to work for big name journals. 

If she thought about it, and she really didn’t like to, it was a bit like what Jughead had done with his father. FP was the sheriff and now Jughead worked at the FBI with Charles. It had always surprised her when Charles said he wanted to be an FBI agent, and she always surmised that it was mainly Jughead’s influence that led him down that path. It didn’t really matter now, as Charles was happy and he had met his fiancé through work, so that was something. Plus, there was no one on earth who wouldn’t love having Kevin Keller as a future brother in law. 

Betty follows Alice up the stairs to her bedroom. When she opens the door, Betty feels her eyes have been instantly assaulted by the sheer amount of _pink_ and _floral_ in the room and all of a sudden understands why JB sometimes calls her “princess Betty”. Was she really this cutesy when she was younger? She looks around at the pink curtains, stuffed teddies, lace doilies and the love-heart buntings that are hanging off the wall and thinks that maybe JB has been too kind to her all these years. 

“Wow,” she says, looking around, “I know it’s only been a year, but oh my god this room looks like that of a seven year old with a unicorn obsession.”

Alice laughs, “Don’t knock the unicorns. You and JB had a really strong craze with them remember? There was a period of around three years that you and her both wanted to be rainbow unicorns for Halloween and Gladys and I were beside ourselves trying to make those costumes.”

Betty giggles, remembering. That was just after JB had come out and Betty was doing all that she could to make sure that her friend had a partner in crime for whatever she wanted to do. And JB, surprisingly, had wanted to be unicorn. A black unicorn, but still. 

“Also look at these photos,” Alice points to the wall of photos with her, JB and Veronica grinning and mucking around in each one of them. “Aren’t they something?”

Betty agrees and feels her heart warm as she looks upon the sweet memories of her adolescence, feeling the overwhelming sense of love for her friends.

When Alice turns to her, she’s teary eyed again and Betty sighs with a wry smile on her face. Her mom is such a crier. She’s probably cried in every single movie ever made. It’s funny because seeing Alice at work is seeing her as a completely different person: snapping orders, staring down at bloody bodies and moving about trauma effectively. 

“Betty,” Alice whispers softly, “I’m so proud of you, honey. You’re growing up to be such a beautiful and intelligent young woman.”

Betty smiles and hugs her mom again before saying lightly, “I do believe there was some talk about fresh apple pie and ice cream?”

Alice wipes her eyes with a handkerchief she produces from her French cuffs and acquiesces. That was another thing about Alice; she was always smartly dressed, even around the home. Veronica loves this about her. “Of course! I think I hear your dad downstairs, so we had better get there before he eats everything!”

Betty laughs and follows her mom downstairs. Hal looks up at the pattering of their feet and grins at her, opening his arms wide, “My dearest Betty!” 

She laughs as she throws herself into her dad’s arms. He makes a small sound of surprise at the force at which she launches herself into him, but soon he is laughing delightedly, “So good to have you home pumpkin. I’m glad I’m not the only one that has to bear the brunt of your mother being in full-on Cooper planning mode!”

Betty laughs again, knowing exactly what her father means. Charles’s wedding plans are probably already mapped out in some sort of war room in their basement. 

Alice shakes her head and starts slicing up the pie and spooning generous helpings into bowls. Betty groans and instantly knows she’s going to have to start doing some exercise (urgh running!) again because between her mom’s hearty cooking and JB’s obsession with milkshakes, it’s going to be a fattening summer. 

“You two, don’t make fun of me,” Alice warns, brandishing a pie lift at them, “I’ve already turned Chic’s bedroom into a wedding planning room.”

“See?” Hal says cheekily and lets Betty go to grab a slice of pie from his wife. He walks behind Alice and puts his arms around her, humming in satisfaction. “Alice Cooper, have I told you how much I love you today?”

Betty’s heart glows as her mum turns to her dad and kisses him. Admittedly, it is a bit gross to watch her parents kiss, but she is just happy that they are still so in love with each other. 

“No, Hal Cooper, you have not,” Alice says breathlessly, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Parents!” Betty interjects, rolling her eyes elaborately. 

Alice reaches across the bench top and cups Betty’s cheek. “We love you so much too, Betty Cooper.”

She can’t stay mad at them and just laughs. Alice hands her the fresh pie and delicious ice cream and they settle at the kitchen table to eat. 

“So Betty,” Her dad starts once they’ve taken the requisite and respectable time to approve of the food in mutual silence as mandated by the doctrine of Alice Cooper. “When do you start your job at _The Register_?

“On Monday,” Betty informs him, swallowing a piece of pie. It is really delicious and Betty is pleased that she can taste the cinnamon so strongly. “I probably won’t be doing anything interesting though, I imagine I’ll just be getting coffees, meta-data tagging and summarising.”

Hal nods thoughtfully, “Also probably proof reading, desktop research and parsing all those old articles into digital format.”

“Urgh!” Betty complains petulantly, “I just want to investigate.”

“So do it,” Hal encourages, “Ask them for a proper assignment. They can throw you something that’s small time and you can spend your summer investigating it.”

“Mmm,” Betty nods, the idea seeming just too good to pass up, “You know dad, I think I might just do that.”

“See?” Hal looks pleased, “Your old man is good for something other than a basement full of cars.”

“Car parts, I think you meant to say dear,” Alice Cooper says primly and Hal puts on a face of mock indignation. 

Betty smiles, happy to be home. 

~~~ 

“Jughead?” Charles’s voice is humming with excitement on the other end of the line, “How long are you staying in Riverdale for?”

It is a Sunday and Jughead has just woken up, not yet ready for the conversations about bonbonnieres, flowers and cakeage, whatever the fuck that is. Charles explained it to him at some point earlier that month and it had conveniently flown right out of his brain. 

“Charles,” he groans somewhat into his pillow, “How are you so awake? We got back home at like two in the morning and it's bloody eight o’clock!”

He can tell Charles is bouncing on his toes, because he can hear the way his breathing changes. All the Coopers seem to have this weird trait; it comes from Hal. He remembers seeing the man practically bouncing off the walls in excitement when his children spoke to him about mysteries and news stories. 

“I haven’t slept!” Sings Charles and there is a muffled sound, like he has just jumped on to the couch, “I’m just so excited about getting married! It’s two weeks away Jug!”

Jughead rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I know, you remind me how many days it is, literally every day. Can’t you talk to Kevin about this? Isn’t he there with you?”

Charles sighs heavily, “No, Kevin is working night shift this week at the hospital, so I’m alone at the moment. Plus he always grumbles at me that he needs his beauty sleep.”

“And you think I don’t?” Jughead cries, finally giving up on getting back to bed and levering himself out of the warm, heavenly covers. 

“Jughead, you know I think you’re gorgeous. In fact, my whole family thinks you’re very attractive,” Charles adds, somewhat unnecessarily, but Jughead’s mind goes immediately to imagining _her_ say that and then feels a little creepy. “I also know that you love me like a brother, and I need you to talk to me.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, thinking, _Damn Charles is just too good at getting me to cave to literally anything._

There are only two other people that Jughead would do literally anything for other than Charles, and one of those two people is his baby sister, Jellybean. The other… well… he tries not to think about her too much. 

“Urgh, fine!” Jughead laments, caving, “Let me at least make myself a coffee before you start waxing lyrical about Kevin’s musculature or something.”

Charles scoffs at him, as if he hasn’t done exactly that before. 

“Is everything sorted for the bachelor party?” Charles asks. 

Jughead feels a rush of nervousness go through him. _Nope, absolutely not much is ready for the bachelor party in Riverdale…_ he thinks, worried. 

“Yeah, totally,” he lies and Charles sees through his bullshit instantly. 

“Jug, come on,” He says gently, “You and Dylan need to just get your shit together. Why don’t you ask for help from my sister, she’s at home now and can help with venues and planning if need be? I’m sure she’ll do it if you ask nicely.”

Jughead’s heart leaps to his throat at the thought of asking her for help. “No, no… I’ll be fine.”

“Mmmhmm,” Charles does not sound convinced. “Look, let me just call her now.”

“No!” He protests, feeling totally unprepared, underdressed, under-everything to be talking to _her_ so early in the morning. He usually needs to talk himself into it for a good month before he feels prepared. 

“Merging calls now!” Charles sings to him and Jughead feels his stomach plummeting, asking himself fruitlessly: _Why are we best friends again?_

“Charles!” Betty’s voice is breathless and Jughead instantly feels like he’s creeped on her. “I miss you! I am so excited to see you again.”

“Betty, darling, I miss you so much too!” Charles says, equally excited and Jughead finds himself cursing the Cooper family to the depths of hell. “I’ll be there on Friday night and we can hang out!” 

Betty sighs wistfully and Jughead feels a little jealous. “Oh, that would be wonderful. It’s been too long and I just want some Charles time. I have so much to tell you! Remember when we last spoke about my boyfriend Tom? Well he and I have now-,”

Charles coughs politely, interrupting her, “Jughead’s on the line.”

 _No!_ Jughead screams internally. _What was she going to say? That she was engaged? Pregnant? Already married?_

He shakes his head, feeling horrified with himself. He is never this emotional under any other circumstance. Betty Cooper has thrown him into a fucking tailspin since he saw her again three years ago and he can’t stand how fucked up that is. She’s Charles’s baby sister, the same age as his little sister and he has known her for her whole fucking life. It’s wrong, so unbelievably wrong, but the more he tries to stop thinking about it, the more she appears in his mind. 

There is a momentary pause and Jughead finds himself dreading what she will say. “Oh, hi Jughead,” she says in that same breathless tone. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

He can’t tell if she’s making fun of him or if she actually considers it a pleasure. 

Charles laughs, “Jughead’s here to beg for your help, Betty.”

Jughead feels his mouth go dry.

Charles prompts him, “Right, Jughead?”

“Uh yeah,” he says, pleased his voice is unwavering albeit a little rough, “I’d love a hand – uh – help with something.”

Charles hums, pleased, and then says, “Okay well, I don’t need to hang out and listen to this anymore, so you two have fun.”

Jughead wants to protest: _Don’t leave me alone with her!_ , but Charles is a scoundrel and hangs up without further ado.

“Uhhh,” Jughead says intelligently to Betty, who is listening politely with all the good graces she was raised with. “I need your help with Charles’s bachelor party.”

Betty laughs and he remembers how much he loves the sound, “Oh! Sure, no problem.”

He barks out a laugh, “What, that easy?”

She giggles, “Certainly. You forget that I’ve been best friends with JB forever and this is a classic Jones family trait.”

He grumbles, hating being reminded of how young she is, “What you mean, leaving something to the last minute and begging the Coopers for help?”

Her laughter peals through the kitchen, illuminating his morning. He thinks he could get used to that sound. “Something like that.”

He suddenly wants to get off this phone call as quickly as possible, so he says, “Well, thanks for pitching in. I just need a venue for some drinking, games and possibly a little karaoke.” 

“No strippers?” Betty asks politely and he knows she is joking. 

“Ha, yeah, sure,” Jughead laughs, “I mean, maybe Charles would consent to a topless waiter or two, but I think he’s more likely to tear Kevin’s clothes off and treat us to a show.”

Betty giggles nervously and he wants to slap his face for forgetting that Charles, despite being head over heels in love with Kevin, is still her _brother_ and it’s a bit weird to think about your brother like that. 

“Okay,” she says, drawing the word out slowly, “So maybe you could do a bit of crawl? Like, you could start classy at La Bonne Nuit or The Maple Club and then head to the Whyte Wyrm for the trashy part of the night? I don’t know if you will find karaoke in Riverdale, but I could turn our house into some sort of poker night, party place if you’d prefer?”

“Nah,” Jughead says, knowing he couldn’t ask her to do all of that, “I think let’s go La Bonne Nuit and Whyte Wyrm. Do I need to book it?”

“How many people are coming?” she asks briskly and he realises she’s probably taking notes in that pink sparkly notebook and fluffy pen that she used to carry with her. He smiles for a moment before reminding himself that he is utterly and shamefully depraved. 

He counts them off, “Charles, Kevin, Dylan, Harper, Tim, Bryan and me. Jason if he’s in town.”

“Okay so eight of you. I think a booking would be a good idea,” she says, “I don’t know if Jason will be in town actually. I was under the impression that he and Polly will be down to the wire working on the their latest movie.”

He pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say. She sighs and jumps in, “I can book for you. Are you sure about La Bonne Nuit versus The Maple Club?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.” He remembers La Bonne Nuit being classy with a bit of a forties twist, very Mad Men, and The Maple Club being a little sleazy and tired. “Why?”

She hums, “Okay, well let me warn you in advance that JB, Veronica and I will also be there. We have already planned it and, well, you know what JB is like when you tell her she can’t do something.”

“Yeah, she says “Fuck the man” and does it anyway,” Jughead chuckles, feeling a warm glow when he thought of his little hell raiser of a sister. 

Betty laughs again, fondly this time, “You bet. So if you’re okay for us to be there at the same time, then I can book for you.”

He hesitates, mostly because the thought of his work mates seeing her makes him extremely concerned. Then the thought of him seeing her while drunk made him extremely uncomfortable. He resolves this by telling himself that they will go early to the Whyte Wyrm before he’s too drunk. 

“Jughead?” she prompts softly, and he realises he’s been silent for a while.

“Yeah, no problem Betty. That sounds great to me,” he says, all business. “Thanks for your help… kiddo.”

He winces around the word even as he says it, knowingly trying to put distance between her and his feelings. 

She doesn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil. “Anytime.”


	2. New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monday and Tuesday before the bachelor party.

**8:22am Monday, group chat**

**V:** Have a great first day at work Betty! You got this, girl. Go get yourself an interesting assignment! 

**B:** Thanks V! I will. Enjoy practicing your sewing :)

~~~

“Hi, I’m Betty Cooper, pleased to meet you,” Betty says charmingly to the mirror. 

She has been up since six, nervous and excited about her new job. After she had tossed and turned for half an hour, positively quivering in anticipation, she decided to get up and make use of her boundless nervous energy and go for a run. The streets of Riverdale’s Northside are serene in the morning and Betty enjoys their quaint homeliness: her neighbours waking up and starting to get ready to go to work. She has always loved Riverdale despite knowing she needed to be away for her dream career. How can she not be obsessed with this place? She has so many good memories. 

There was the time when she was twelve and JB decided that she wanted to go camping near Sweetwater River. Charles and Jughead, both eighteen, had been forced to look after them and they both still bitched about it to this day. Betty and JB had the time of their lives, even after the summer storm had rolled in and practically washed their campsite away. She recalled JB cackling delightedly, screaming into the sky, “Do your worst!” before she had pitched her wiry body into the newly formed mud and dragged Betty with her. Charles and Jughead had been livid with the two of them, and Charles had made her jump into Sweetwater River before he allowed her in his car. Jughead had just grabbed JB by her skinny limbs and thrown her in without request, heedless of her squeals. 

When they were fourteen and just after Veronica had joined their group, she had invited them to their first sleepover at her place. Both her parents were out of the state, so they all ate way too much sugar and turned the whole of Veronica’s living room into a “skating rink”. They had poured talcum powder on the floor and put on the fluffiest socks they could find, skidding and slipping around the room, laughing like the idiots they were. Then, JB insisted they played ice hockey and that saga had ended with one of Mr Lodge’s expensive paperweights being smashed through a French door. Veronica had laughed so hard, but surprisingly, JB had felt really bad about it. 

As she passed the shops, she remembered Veronica’s shoplifting spree when she was sixteen. Every week she would show up at school with new clothing or costume jewellery that was totally not to her style. JB had said she was acting out because her parents had gone overseas and left her behind. Her theory was that she wanted attention and was acting up for it. Betty hadn’t been too sure of that, but once JB got something in her head, it was hard to convince her otherwise. They had followed Veronica for a week until they finally caught her in the act. JB had literally picked her up and tossed her over her shoulder, dragging her out of the store yelling that she was being a crazy bitch. JB still calls Veronica a bitch a lot and strangely, Veronica seems to wear it like a badge of honour. 

There was the more recent time that they went camping, when Betty was seventeen. It was for the Fourth of July weekend and she, Veronica and JB decided that they wanted some time with just the girls. Veronica and JB both stole some liquor from the their parents cabinets and the three of them proceeded to get so horribly intoxicated that they couldn’t touch alcohol for a while after that. JB was the most lucid, but Betty was fairly certain that she had effectively confessed her love for Veronica that night, so she must have been a bit wasted and soppy. 

She recalled one time when she was nineteen when JB slashed Jughead’s tires in anger when he came home for Christmas and brought his girlfriend to meet the family. Betty doesn’t like to remember that time because the girl had been really beautiful and that whole Christmas had just messed with her brain. Betty’s stomach had churned horribly with jealously and pain when she had watched them at the dinner table. JB had also been going through a really tough time with Toni. For slashing Jughead’s tires, FP had grounded JB for a month. In retaliation JB had responded by running away. Things calmed down a little after her and Toni’s break up. Now, she lives with the Serpents and things with Toni seem fine. 

When Betty had arrived back home after her run, it was seven and she went to quietly have breakfast. Her parents would probably get up a bit later, so she was careful not to wake them as she pottered about, making herself a fresh coffee and piece of toast. 

Now, she stares at herself in the foggy shower mirror and repeats, “Hi, I’m Betty Cooper, pleased to meet you.” 

“Practicing your intro, honey?” Alice calls through the bathroom door.

“Mom!” Betty cries, feeling embarrassed.

“What? Nothing to be ashamed of!” Alice assures her. “Although you might feel ashamed if you are late on your first day. It’s eight thirty. Did you want a lift to the office?”

Betty is startled to find that she has already wasted so much time in the shower and says hastily, “Yes please!”

She bolts passed her surprised mom to go get changed into a simple structured dress with a collar, because she is a sucker for cute collars. She pulls on her heeled sandals and races down the stairs. 

“Is that a herd of elephants?” Hal asks, barely looking up from the latest copy of _The Register._ “Or my graceful daughter?”

“A graceful herd of daughters?” she tries and kisses him on the top of his head before racing out the door, dragging her handbag behind her. 

“Pumpkin, I think you’ll find the collective noun for daughters is “blessing”!” She hears him call after her and she smiles, having momentarily forgotten his obsession with collective nouns.

Alice is already in the car, waiting patiently for her with her sensible glasses perched on her nose. “Hi honey,” she says once Betty gets in. She points to the backseat of the car, “I thought you might want a cute blazer to go with that dress?”

The blazer is one of Alice’s best. It’s a dusky rose colour and made from silk.

“Oh mom, I couldn’t possibly,” She breathes, entranced by the beauty of the garment. 

“You so can, my darling. This is the first exciting step in your career as a journalist. Your father and I are so incredibly proud of you.” He mom starts driving her into Riverdale. “Plus, I’m retired, I hardly need my work clothes anymore!”

“Thanks mom, that means a lot,” Betty says, “I know how much that blazer meant to you.”

“And to you.” Her mother glances at her briefly before her eyes return to the road. “I know how much you loved it whenever I wore it. Now you can wear it and it can be special again.”

“Ah mom, I love you,” Betty says as Alice pulls up outside the office of _The Register._

“I know honey, I love you too.” Her mother pats her leg. “Now go kick down some doors until you get a proper assignment.”

Betty is laughing as she puts on the blazer and walks in. 

A receptionist, who is also clearly working on some of his own articles, greets her. 

“Hi, I’m Betty Cooper, the new intern,” she says and watches gratefully as look of recognition crosses his face. 

“Welcome Betty,” he says, “I’m David. Let me just call Valerie; she will be your manager while you’re interning with us. How long will that be for?”

“For the summer,” she says, hopefully. 

“Sure, okay, give me one moment.” He crosses his legs at the knee and holds up a finger at her while he dials a number on his mobile. “Valerie, I’ve got your intern here.”

When he hangs up, he leans over to her, “She’ll be a moment, she’s just in a budget meeting with Helen, our editor-in-chief. Valerie’s amazing; you can learn so much from her skill. She’s the youngest managing editor we’ve ever had. Did you know she used to work for The Globe?”

Betty assumes he means _The Boston Globe._

Betty nods, excited. “Lovely, that sounds amazing. Look David, don’t feel like you need to keep me company. I am sure you’re super busy and I really don’t want you to have to babysit me.”

David looks charmed by her and says, “Nonsense. You’re part of the team. This job is hard enough, what with AI taking over and everything, plus certain politicians – not naming any names – threatening the credibility of journalism as a public good, we can’t afford not to be friends.”

She laughs, enjoying his political tirade. This was absolutely the reason she was doing this job and was so excited to just be in the fray. 

“Sounds fair,” she allows and then a tall black woman in an orange slip dress powering to the desk catches her attention. The woman is beautiful and emanates the kind of feminist aura that Betty has always been a bit attracted to, kind of like how she feels about JB; a little star struck and yet instantly comforted. 

Valerie’s smile is huge as she catches Betty’s eyes, “Betty, welcome! I’m Valerie, but please call me Val. I see you’ve met David here. Let me show you around and then we can get started!”

“Thanks David!” Betty chirps as she follows Val around the office.

 _The Register_ ’s office is fairly small and there are just a few reporters around at this time of the morning. The décor is very late nineties. The walls a hideous shade of green that’s a cross between avocado and mint, and there is unnecessary wood panelling on every surface.

“There are ten reporters who work for the paper, but only five of us are full time. The rest are regular contributing authors, but are technically freelancers.”

Betty nods, _The Register_ had been doing pretty well on circulation lately since opening up the digital channels and their Facebook advertising circuit. Their print copies were stable considering many people loved the paper. 

“There are the bathrooms, and the kitchenette,” Val says, gesturing. “Look, most of us tend to work here to type stories and have meetings, but the majority of time is spent in the field. Or, at least it will be for you.”

Betty feels her face split into a grin, “Oh gosh really?”

“Absolutely,” Val says, crossing her arms and tossing her curly hair, “We are not paying you very much at all and on my conscience, I cannot have you bored out of your mind just doing admin bullshit.”

“I’m going to get an assignment?” Betty’s eyes shine in anticipation. 

“For sure,” Val says and reaches over to her desk, pulling out a thin manila folder, “Your first assignment.”

Betty takes the folder and sighs, “Oh wow Val, I’m so happy. I promise I won’t let you down.”

Val smirks, “I know you won’t. I’ve seen your resume.”

Betty flushes a little, pleased. 

Val looks at her gently, “You’ll be working with us for three months, but only part time. I’m so sorry, we just can’t afford you more than that.”

“I can work for free!” Betty finds herself saying and Val shoots her an angry look.

“No you can’t!” Val insists, “Value your work and value yourself. I promise that you will learn enough here to count as a pretty good experience. Plus, I’ve got some friends in bigger papers around the U.S., so if you’re good, I promise I will put in a word with them.” 

“Oh wow,” Betty hears herself say softly, “That would be honestly the most incredible thing.”

Val smiles. Before Betty can ask what Val is doing working in Riverdale of all places, Val seems to sense her question and answers it. “I came here to live with the love of my life who came back home to take care of her mother. She’s now Riverdale mayor, so I guess we are staying for a while.”

“Your wife is Josie McCoy?” Betty blurts. Another ruthless and powerful woman that Betty admires. “She’s amazing!”

Val looks enchanted, “Yeah, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest though?” Betty asks politely. 

Val barks out a sharp laugh, “Yeah, but we’ve both grown up on politics, so we know the game. Plus, if it becomes too much about her I let the other writers have it. You know what they say: no political strife, happy love life.”

Betty laughs. 

“Okay, well now you’ve seen the place, let me introduce you to Helen and then I will get you set up on your desk.”

~~~

**11:56am Monday, group chat**

**JB:** Morning babes, sorry I slept in. How’s it going?

 **B:** Good!!! I got my first assignment! 

**JB:** Killer, knew you had it in you ;)

 **V:** It’s barely morning JB, how late were you up last night?

 **JB:** Who are you? My dad? 

**V:** Your Queen. 

**JB:** :P ::eyeroll::

_JB has changed V’s name to My Queen V._

**My Queen V:** You may rise, loyal subject

 **B:** Still on for tonight at yours JB?

 **JB:** Yep, I am cooking.

 **My Queen V:** Yikes, @B, I’ll pack antacid

 **JB:** Fuck off bitch 

**My Queen V:** <3 <3 <3

~~~ 

Early evening on Monday, Jughead is surprised when he gets a phone call from Betty Cooper. In his phone it comes up with _Charles’s sister_ , but he’s never had Polly’s number, so it could only be her. 

“Betty,” he answers smoothly.

“Oh hi Jug,” she responds and he groans, hating the way her voice plays tricks on his libido. “Is everything alright?” she says and he thinks he might have groaned a bit too loudly. 

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe,” he lies easily. 

“Oh no!” She’s instantly apologetic; “I can call back later if this is a bad time for you?”

Trying to push the thought from his mind that he would never have his shit together enough to talk to her, he just sighs, “No, it’s fine Betty. What’s up?”

“Just calling to let you know that you’re booked for La Bonne Nuit at nine on Saturday night. They just have bar food, so you may want to book somewhere for dinner earlier. I was thinking that Charles would probably prefer either Kisune or Le Coq au Vin.”

Jughead can’t get over the fact that innocent little Betty Cooper has said the word “cock” over the phone to him and almost laughs in embarrassment before reminding himself that it’s the name of the restaurant. And it means “chicken” in French. He knows; he’s travelled before.

 _Try not being like, fourteen for a moment brain?_ He asks himself, knowing it is an exercise in utter futility. 

Betty, obviously concerned at his silence says gently, “Kisune is Japanese, pretty fancy. Sleek and black with lots of delicious sashimi. Le Coq au Vin is French, as you can probably guess from the name. Like all French cuisine, it is filled with meat and butter.”

“Uhh,” Jughead starts, cursing his brain to get off its sluggish hindquarters and say something, anything. “The Coq one sounds good.”

He can hear her laughing and he knows she’s laughing _at_ him because he’s an uncouth idiot and yet he’s smiling at the same time. 

“Does it now?” she quips and he suddenly wonders if she thinks he has a thing for Charles. 

“The food, I mean,” he almost stutters, “You know, butter and meat. It sounded much better when you explained it.”

“Mmmhmm,” she hums and he wants to hang up and hang himself. 

“Okay,” she says after another moment of silence from him, “I’ll book you the coq one.”

He chokes, feeling a sinful curl of liquid heat shoot through him. He wishes he could watch her saying it and feels dirty at the thought. 

“Hey,” he hears himself saying, “Betty, I just want to thank you for doing this. You’ve really done me a solid. I won’t forget it.”

“I expect ice cream as payment,” she warns and he agrees to whatever she wants. 

“Oh definitely,” he purrs, “That’s the least I can do.”

He can hear her little breathy gasp and it is so delicious, but then he feels old and dirty again. 

“See you Saturday?” she says hesitantly.

“Saturday,” he whispers, like a promise.

When he hangs up, he slaps himself on both cheeks, hard.

~~~

“Was that Jughead?” her mother asks when she hangs up the phone to that oddly disconcerting conversation. She hasn’t seen or spoken to Jughead for almost eighteen months – two Christmases ago – and suddenly she’s back in Riverdale and obsessing over him again like she’s sixteen. Or nineteen. Or whatever age, really.

“Yes.” Betty rolls her eyes in an effort to pretend like she doesn’t love the attention from him and picks up a bowl of white sugared almonds and starts putting them in small forest green organza bags. 

_Poor me,_ Betty thinks dramatically, _The delectable Jughead Jones wants to talk to me. But it’s only about my gay brother’s wedding! Feel sorry for me, world!_

“Such a lovely boy,” her mother says and Betty ignores her, patiently stuffing bags with almonds. “Gladys says that he’s coming back on Friday, did you know that?”

Gladys and Alice are the worst kind of gossips: best friends who happened to be both your mom and your crush’s mom. 

_Urgh, crush,_ Betty thinks, shaking her head, _No wonder he thinks I’m an annoying child._

“Yes mom, I did know. He and Charles are on the same flight,” Betty points out, words succinct. 

“Oh have you spoken to Charles lately?” Alice looks a little jealous. Betty figures he hasn’t called her today and rolls her eyes again. Charles and Alice are practically joined at the hip.

Betty sighs, “Yes mom, but not really. He just wanted me to help Jughead plan his bachelor party.”

Alice looks mollified and laughs, “Ah yes, except for FP, those Joneses could not plan their way out of a paper bag.”

Betty feels a little protective of her best friend’s family, “Yes, but they are super smart and amazing in other ways! Why Jughead is…”

She trails off and feels her face flush. 

“Is what, Elizabeth?” Her mother asks politely and Betty buries herself back into the almond exercise hoping her mother won’t notice that she didn’t start by listing JB’s good qualities. “So what are you helping our dear Jughead with?”

“Oh you know, booking places, nothing out of the ordinary,” Betty breezes and her mom looks at her sternly. 

“Make sure he thanks you properly,” Alice says primly and Betty flushes when she thinks of the exact way she’d like Jughead to thank her. “I mean, you are going out of your way to help him. It’s not like he hasn’t had plenty of time to plan this! Honestly that boy.”

Betty just nods, biting her lip as she imagines a shirtless Jughead Jones sweeping her literally off her feet and pulling her into a searing kiss. Mmm that’s gratitude.

Alice just watches her with both eyebrows raised. 

~~~

**5:45pm Monday, group chat**

**JB:** What time are you coming over?

 **B:** Seven? I’m still wrapping bonbonniere

 **JB:** Lit, @My Queen V?

 **My Queen V:** Sounds good to me. Can I bring anything?

 **JB:** Alcohol if you want. I’m a struggling artist so I’m not made of Amex blacks and miles cards

 **My Queen V:** Geez, a simple yes would have sufficed 

**JB:** Please accept my sincerest apologies My Queen V

 **My Queen V:** I need more than virtual lip service 

_My Queen V has changed JB’s name to My Amex Black Card_

~~~

“Hey Princess Betty,” JB opens the door for her around seven. “Welcome back to the Snake Pit.”

Betty smiles and presents her with a six-pack of the Greendale Craft brew. JB whistles appreciatively and says, “How good is it that we can buy alcohol now?”

Betty laughs, “Honestly, the best. I thought this day would never come where we could stop stealing drinks from our parent’s cocktail nights and hope they didn’t notice.” 

“Yeah, but I wish I could still do that,” JB snorts, “Drinking is expensive.”

She holds up the six pack and continues, “But what you’ve brought is infinitely better than what Queen V has deigned to pack.”

“Hey!” Veronica’s voice filters into the entrance hall, “Just because you can’t appreciate a proper champagne, doesn’t mean I will be stooping to the gutters to drink your toxic crap.”

“Oi, Veronica, language!” JB admonishes as she walks into the open kitchen-living room. It’s a classic share house: shit everywhere. JB has been living with the Serpents for a year now and Betty is honestly surprised that the place hasn’t been burnt to the ground yet. 

“This is a no swearing household!” JB jokes, “Think of the fucking children!”

“Why on earth would I want to think of that?” Veronica says primly and shoves her nose in the air with only a haughtiness that she can pull off.

JB cackles as she cracks open a beer and walks around the other side of the kitchen bench. She claps her hands and says, “Okay, so who knows how to make burritos?”

Veronica and Betty share a look. JB is grinning at them maniacally. 

“Every time!” Veronica shrieks and runs around the other side of the counter to smack JB, who is laughing and holding her back with relative ease. Betty just shakes her head and pours herself a glass of Veronica’s Bollinger. JB might be beer obsessed, but no other twenty one year old knows how to drink like Veronica. 

JB wraps Veronica in her arms a little possessively, like she’s giving her a loving embrace but then ruins the moment by biting Veronica’s neck like a vampire. 

Veronica is half screaming half laughing as she tries to push JB away as JB locks on with her mouth harder. Betty can already tell that Veronica’s going to get a love bite and her struggling will not help; JB is a lot taller and stronger than her. 

When JB releases her, Veronica leans over the sink on the island bench, face flushed, panting. Her eyes are dark and Betty doesn’t miss the way that JB stares at her, pupils dilated. There is something completely erotic about the moment and Betty feels a bit like she has intruded on something private. 

Veronica turns to face JB and tries to snarl through her gasps, “Every bloody time. You say you’re going to cook and then we show up and do all the work! Just ask us to make you dinner next time!”

JB licks her lips and Betty is unfairly reminded of that exact same expression on Jughead’s face two Christmases ago when he looked at her. Her heart pounds in her throat as she thinks of that moment and tries to push it out of her mind.

JB rolls her eyes and the tension in the room dissipates, “I just want you to think I have my life together Veronica, is that too much to ask?”

Veronica rights herself, laughing as she pulls JB into a hug, “You can have your life together and still be a shi- sorry, I’m thinking of the fucking children – terrible cook and I would still love you.”

JB pats her on the head. “Thanks V,” she says to Veronica and then turns to Betty. “Are you planning on helping us?”

“Nope,” Betty grins, holding up her half empty glass of champagne. “I am drinking while you two struggle.”

“Aw B!” pouts JB and Betty relents, like she always does. 

“Fine, but JB, you have to promise to stay out of the kitchen. I am super hungry and the last thing I need right now is food poisoning before my second day on the job.” Betty is already shoulder deep in the cupboards, pulling out implements and ingredients while Veronica starts on the chilli mince. 

Veronica had to learn how to cook for herself because she was often home alone and started getting very bored with the take out choices in the Riverdale/Greendale area. Betty and Smithers had teamed up and taught her in shifts. JB had never bothered to cook, because everyone in her family could do so extremely well, especially Jughead ( _Like, wow,_ Betty thinks), and now she lives with three older housemates who all treat her like a little sister. Betty learnt to cook because in the Cooper household, everyone helps with everything, except for Polly, who is a little bit selfish. 

“Fine,” JB retorts, but Betty can tell she’s pleased because she doesn’t have to lift a finger. 

“We will leave the cleaning up to you, so don’t be an asshole and leave it to your housemates,” Veronica warns her and JB blushes, probably remembering all the times she has done exactly that. 

“Yes My Queen V,” she says with a small voice. “So Betty, tell us how your day went?”

“It was so good!” Betty cries as she starts to chop veggies, “The editor in chief is a super kick-ass woman and I am totally in love with my manager, Valerie.”

JB nods enthusiastically, “Oh Mayor McCoy’s wife? Yeah, she’s a powerful babe, but I’ve never met her. I didn’t know she worked for _The Register_?”

“Yeah, well she does, apparently she moved here when Sierra, you know, Josie’s mom, was sick and they just decided to stay.”

“Cute,” Veronica sighs wistfully, “I just love lesbian power couples. Don’t you JB?”

JB chokes on her beer. While she’s coughing up half her lung, Betty catches Veronica’s eye, smirks and shakes her head. Veronica and JB have always played with each other like this, and although Betty is fairly certain that JB has a thing for Veronica, it’s hard to tell what Veronica wants. 

JB and Veronica are the kind of friends that Betty can go to with any problem and have their unconditional support. JB is way more abrasive, but Betty has grown up with her literally her entire life and she knows that JB loves her immensely. JB pushes against life because she loves the fight: she loves being a metal head, being covered in tattoos, being in a band and being a lesbian. She loves being different and fierce. She always does what she wants, much to the frustration of her parents, JB is always unashamedly herself and Betty admires and loves her for it. 

JB is comforting, but through habit. She’s prickly and snarky, but she is the most loyal person that Betty has ever met. Veronica is also loyal, but where JB will use her fists to settle any argument, Veronica will use her wits and words. She’s whip-smart and she’s exactly the kind of person to have by your side throughout high school when Cheryl was going around… being Cheryl. 

Veronica, you can confide in and she will never again bring your secrets up without your consent. JB is the opposite of that. If you tell her a secret, she will always bring it up and niggle at it until you just get over your insecurities or tell her to shove off. The former was always the easier option. 

Betty recalls the time that she may have accidentally told JB that she thought Jughead was pretty: she was fifteen and Jughead was twenty-one, angry he was home for the summer, kicking around with Charles. To this day, JB has never let her live it down. 

Betty sometimes almost felt sorry for Jughead when she thinks about what he must have gone through with JB as a sister. But then, Jughead has always doted on JB and so maybe their relationship isn’t quite like that. 

“Yeah I love me some hot ladies,” JB says smoothly after she recovers from her coughing fit. She turns to Betty, “So babe, tell us more, you said you got an assignment, what is it?”

Betty smiles, remembering the helpful briefing and research plan that Valerie had provided to her in a manila folder. “It’s actually really fascinating. Apparently we started receiving these really weird tip offs about something odd going on at Riverdale High-,”

“Like, when is Riverdale High normal?” JB points out and Betty has to admit that she’s right. 

“True, but apparently half the cheerleading team fainted in practices in the last week of school and parents are really concerned.”

“Collective heat stroke?” Veronica suggests.

“Yeah, I mean possibly, but it wasn’t that hot during that week…” Betty says. 

“Collective hallucination?” Smirks JB, “I mean, they are cheerleaders after all.”

“Hey!” Betty and Veronica cry, brandishing their cooking instruments like weapons in JB’s direction, “We were cheerleaders!”

JB smiles and clearly enunciates, “Yeah and you two are idiots.”

“You’re the idiot,” grumbles Veronica and Betty’s happy to note they’ve descended to the designated toddler-like insults section of the evening. 

“I mean, that’s true as well,” she smiles and shakes her long black hair under Jughead’s beanie. Her eyes are wistful for a moment before she says, “Remember when I clocked Archie on the chin for being mean to you V?”

Veronica laughs, “That was amazing, he looked so scared of you. Didn’t Mr Andrews and your dad have “a little chat” about your behaviour?”

JB rolls her eyes, “Yeah and also Mantle’s dad that other time when I slugged him for making a fool outta my girl Betty at that pep rally. I mean you River Vixens had just finished the perfect set and he was trying to take that away from you; it was in a word: rude.”

Betty giggles, “That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my high school life. When he declared that he loved me. Not when you punched him. That was great and I will remember that forever.”

“That can’t have been your most embarrassing moment, surely?” JB says snidely, “Didn’t you write that Valentine for Jughead that one year when he was already at the Academy?”

Betty feels her heart drop and swoop back in with sickening speed, “What do you mean?”

“He got a Valentine hand-delivered to our house,” JB points at her accusingly. “I think mom sent it to him, because he was so new on the job he was practically married to it. Anyway, how do I know this? I would recognise your art supplies anywhere, but this year in particular, you had made me a very similar Valentine’s Day card.” She turns to Veronica and asks, “You remember the year with the shiny red love hearts, gold foil stickers and the little decal cutters?”

Betty feels her face heat in mortification when Veronica smirks and nods, “That was a really good year for cards actually. You must have spent a lot of time on those, Betty.”

JB cackles, “Yeah, but she spent more time on Jug’s one. I saw it, it was fucking pristine.”

Betty feels her heart in her throat when she asks, “Do you think he knows it was me?”

“Did you sign it, “Love Betty”?” JB asks.

She shakes her head, hopefully, but still not quite remembering. 

“Lucky you, he will have no clue.” JB says, “For someone who works for the FBI, he’s oblivious about personal signals.”

Veronica takes pity on her and draws the conversation back to work while she turns on the stove, “How are you going to investigate Riverdale High stuff over summer break?”

Betty shrugs, “I’ll probably just contact some of the cheerleaders and ask to speak to them, maybe break into the school and have a look around. You know, same old, same old.”

“Sounds wicked,” JB says, eyes shining, “That is definitely same old Betty Cooper from the _Blue & Gold_ we know and love: snapping necks and taking names.”

The front door opens and Toni yells, “JB, we are home!”

Veronica’s arm stills as she is stirring the chilli. Betty squeezes Veronica’s elbow reassuringly and takes the liberty to add tomato paste to the pot while she’s distracted. 

To say that Toni and Veronica don’t really get along is putting it mildly. Betty is willing to bet everything that she had on Veronica being the main reason for JB and Toni's relationship breakdown. Betty knows that Toni accused JB of emotional cheating when she found out that JB had a crush on someone else. That accusation and JB’s subsequent freak out spelled the beginning of the end for Toni and JB’s relationship. 

Although Betty knows more about the events leading up to the break up than literally anyone else, JB has never confessed her feelings for Veronica to Betty. But Betty knows she’s the one that JB has been in love with for years; Toni’s visceral reaction to Veronica after the tyre-slashing Christmas all but confirmed it. 

Betty believes that part of the issue is that Veronica has no idea why Toni has always been an asshole to her. It’s not like JB has ever confessed her feelings, so for years, poor Veronica has just had to tiptoe around Toni’s fury and JB’s awkwardness without knowing why. Betty wants to tell her, but it’s really not her place. Plus, like JB, she’s unsure about how Veronica will react. 

JB is still suspiciously closed-lipped about the whole affair and always brushes Betty off every time she brings it up.

“Oh,” Toni says with displeasure in her voice as she eyes Veronica at her stove, “It’s you.”

Veronica steels herself and smiles serenely, “Hi Toni, how are you?”

She sounds so heartfelt that even Toni is surprised; like years of pent up anger and passive aggressive remarks are water under the bridge. Betty knows that Veronica is putting up a front, but Veronica was borne of actors and entrepreneurs, so she knows charisma and how to work a room. Also, it has been three years of those two glaring daggers at each other, so she supposes now is a good time as any for them to break that cycle. 

JB looks guilty and Betty shoots her a fierce glance as if to say, _Seriously, how could you not have warned Veronica that this was going to happen?_

“I’m good,” Toni says coldly and then smirks, “Nice love bite, by the way, who gave that to you?”

Veronica flushes crimson and no one is more surprised when JB voluntarily utters the words, “Me, I gave it to her.”

Instead of the jealousy and rage that Betty expects from Toni, a slow and sly smirk crosses her face. “Nice one JB, assaulting your guests already.”

JB grins and Betty knows first hand how hard it is to stay mad at a Jones when they give you that crooked grin. 

“Are you coming to our Whyte Wyrm gig, Veronica?” Toni asks and Veronica starts slightly, her stirring hand pausing at the pot again. 

“Yeah,” Veronica smiles warily, “Both Betty and I will be there.” She pauses for a moment and then smoothly picks up conversation. “Don’t worry, JB has already told us we have to “metal up” so we won’t embarrass you.”

Toni barks out a laugh. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck what you wear, as long as you come and support us by screaming our lyrics and moshing,” she flicks an indecipherable look at JB, who is flushing beet red and says, “Seems like JB just wants to see you in black leather.”

JB chokes on her beer and Toni punches her arm playfully. Betty steals a quick glance at Veronica, but her hair is covering her face. 

“You ladies remember Sweet Pea and Fangs, yeah?” Toni asks as she ushers the boys in. The nail-biting alpha-female induced tension of mere moments ago is reduced to nothing and Betty feels oddly relieved yet exhausted, like she has run a marathon (eww marathons, eww Tom). 

Betty nods and lifts her glass of champagne by way of greeting. Although she watches JB’s Instagram uploads religiously, it’s decidedly different seeing the rockers themselves in their messy share house compared to seeing them in their make-up and studded outfits, shredding on stage in front of a darkened venue filled with a hoard of screaming fans. 

Fangs is the lead singer and he plays rhythm guitar. He has a great voice, one that can go from clean and angelic to a death growl in a heartbeat. Toni is the bassist, but she can also sing. Her voice is powerful and angry, with strong post hardcore influences. Sweet Pea is much larger in real life than he seems from his usual position behind the drum kit. _Were his arms always that big?_

“S’up Veronica and Betty,” Fangs says and Sweet Pea nods. 

“Hi guys,” JB greets and tosses them each a beer, “Courtesy of Betty, who is now too good for beer.”

“Is that Bollinger?” Toni sighs, “Oh my god, my girlfriend drinks that shit all the time, and it’s the best.”

Veronica’s whole being is alight with happiness and she turns to Toni, “Help yourself to a glass, by all means. Do you guys want some food too? It’s burrito night.”

Fangs laughs, “So you both got conned into feeding the helpless lamb.”

“I’m not helpless!” JB insists. 

“Prove it! Actually make a proper meal yourself for once in your miserable life.” Fangs cracks open the beer and takes a swig, “Thanks Betty, good brew.”

“Hey!” Veronica interrupts, “Play nice.”

JB looks pleased but reassures her, “It’s fine V, Fangs rags on my cooking and I rag on his literal existence. It’s a fair trade.”

Veronica rolls her eyes, muttering to herself as she finishes up the chilli and turns the stove off. “Food, anyone?”

They all descend on the goods, cooing at the flavours and throwing in far more shredded cheese than is healthy before all setting down to the dining table to eat. 

“Betty,” Sweet Pea says before he takes a bite, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, how are you doing?”

“Really well actually, I am working a little at _The Register_ this summer, which is very exciting for me. Also, hanging out with these idiots and helping my brother get married.”

Toni snorts, “Does he need help?”

Betty laughs, “No I think Charles could find Kevin anywhere, but his best man does. I’m helping plan the bachelor party.”

“What?” JB interrupts loudly and then turns to everyone to provide context, “Jughead’s the best man. What Betty? How are you suddenly planning a party that you’re not even going to?” 

Betty rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her hot burrito. 

Veronica looks at her with concern, “Don’t let him use you Betty. What if he’s being lazy and just wants you to do it because you’re the most helpful person in existence?”

Betty finishes chewing her mouthful and smiles warmly at Veronica then glares at JB for good measure as if she is the embodiment of Jughead. “I’m helping because Charles specifically asked me. He called me and asked me personally to help Jughead. I can’t deny the groom for his special day!”

JB snorts, looking amused. “Wow, Betty you’re being a real good sport about this. Ordinarily you’d certainly say no to such requests from my brother, right?”

Betty resists flipping JB the bird. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Betty retorts childishly, “I’ve never had to plan a bachelor party for him before now. The situation is unprecedented.”

“Unprecedented, riiight,” JB nods calmly, her voice sardonic. 

Betty glares at her and then says, “How are you doing Sweet Pea? I heard your amazing solo in the latest track, so impressive!” She turns to him fully, trying to ignore the view of JB’s shit-eating grin. 

Sweet Pea looks delighted by the question, “Did you see the video where we did that live?”

“Oh yeah,” Betty nods enthusiastically, “Your drum stick flipping and throwing is super awesome.”

Sweet Pea grins and says, “I’m so glad that you two are coming to our gig in a couple of weeks. It’s going to be pretty big I think, there’s a huge metal scene in Greendale, you know with the band called “Dorian Grey and the Immortals”?”

Betty shakes her head as she is not typically a metal fan, she likes the Southside Serpents, but mostly because she loves watching JB in her element. 

“Oh yeah, wicked cool sound, more on the symphonic side than us, they have a cello player. Super good. If you’re still in town when they play next, you should come with us.”

“Sure,” Betty allows, as she’s typically comfortable to try anything once. 

When she catches JB’s eyes again, she’s shaking her head and smirking suggestively. Betty tries to make out what she’s mouthing, but can’t decipher it. 

She has no idea what JB’s on about and decides to ignore her juvenile behaviour. 

~~~

**11:03pm Monday, group chat**

**My Amex Black Card:** You’re a sucker for Joneses, aren’t you Betty? We say jump and you’re flying into our arms 

**My Amex Black Card:** I know you read that message @B, stop ignoring me 

**My Amex Black Card:** You’re literally staring at your phone screen, you loser

 **My Amex Black Card:** Fine, but remember, you drove me to this.

_My Amex Black Card changed B’s name to Mrs Jughead Jones_

~~~

Betty spends the time from that message until one in the morning convincing herself that changing back it would be somehow more incriminating.


	3. Rock through the Ages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday and Wednesday before the bachelor party. Wedding preparations and banter.

At seven o’clock on Tuesday morning, Charles, Kevin, Jughead and Dylan are all sitting and eating at the local brunch hotspot, _Grind it!_ It used to be called _Grinder,_ but after receiving a “cease and desist” notice by the lawyers representing an app of a similar title, they updated the name of their café. 

As Jughead looks around at the place, packed to the brim with most of the pride community of D.C., he thinks the litigation may have actually done them a favour and put them on the map. 

Jughead has been up since five thirty this morning, in order to make sure that he got in a full hour at the gym before filling his body with the fattiest bacon and eggs on offer. 

Kevin and Dylan just finished night shift at the hospital and are looking stressfully awake. Kevin chugs his third green tea of the sitting and Dylan’s eyes dart around the room in excitement. 

“So,” Charles says over the surrounding din, “How’s the Bachelor party coming along guys?”

Betty had texted him the night before explaining she’d booked a degustation at Le Coq au Vin for seven. He had stared at the little red love heart she put after the text in confusion before throwing his phone away and groaning loudly. Two hours later, when he finally stopped freaking out, he texted her back a thumbs up emoji, because that was neutral, right? 

“Good, actually,” Jughead says smoothly, “I think everything is pretty much sorted now.”

Kevin shoots Charles a look, which Jughead cannot decipher, because despite knowing Charles for his whole life, he and Kevin have this secret little language with their eyes. Charles smiles mischievously and Jughead is really confused now. 

“Thank god for Betty, huh?” Kevin sighs. 

Jughead hums noncommittally. 

He has no idea if Charles knows if he likes Betty and has literally no desire for him to find out. Ever. If he had it his way, Jughead would spend five years at a monastery in Tibet learning how to purge himself of all thoughts of (and desires for) Betty Cooper. He has obviously never even bothered trying, because of the utter futility of it. Betty Cooper is an irreplaceable part of his life whether he likes it or not. He’s not about to give up on Charles as his best friend, nor JB as his little sister and they would both kill him if he ever stopped talking to Betty. So, right now, Jughead is content to just sit in the discomfort of his feelings, because, well he’s never needed to act on them. Ever since her adolescence, Betty has lived out of reach of him except for times he has seen her for the Cooper/Jones mandatory Christmas gatherings. 

Although she didn’t come to the last one, and he heard that she was staying with her boyfriend. Tom. The guy she was talking about on the phone the other day. He had never met Tom, but he had seen photos on Instagram and couldn’t help his visceral response of pure _loathing_ at the guy’s milquetoast face and appearance. This was whom Betty liked? This random, lily-livered boy? It made Jughead so unbelievably jealous to think about it, so he had tried to avoid Betty’s Instagram for a while. That lasted all of four hours before her was back to scrolling through the pictures of her laughing, her food and her with _that bastard._

He hoped against hope that Betty wasn’t engaged to that loser. She could do so much better. 

“Who’s Betty?” He hears Dylan ask. 

Charles speaks up, and Jughead takes a large mouthful of coffee as if to prepare himself for the conversation. “My youngest sister. She’s studying journalism and is back in Riverdale for the summer to help me and Kevin out with the wedding set up, seeing as we couldn’t get the extra time off from work, what with they honeymoon and all that.”

“Aw that’s so lovely,” Dylan says. 

Charles pulls out his phone and shares a photo with the Cooper siblings in it. 

Dylan takes a quick glance and blushes slightly, saying, “Wow, your family are very attractive Charles.”

Jughead doesn’t say anything, but his hands are curled into fists.

“Back off!” Kevin sings possessively, hands on Charles’s chest. They share a beautiful lovesick look and Jughead is jealous again of their amazing and loving relationship, wishing he could experience something like that in his life.

Dylan laughs and raises his hands as if to say “woah man, no touchy from me, I promise”.

Charles smiles and explains, “See, this is Betty and that’s my other sister, Polly. If you’re into arthouse films at all, you may know Polly. She and her fiancé Jason Blossom are actors and filming some arty movie somewhere in rugged Colorado at the moment.”

“Oh she does look familiar,” Dylan says squinting at the photo. Then he clicks his fingers together, “Whispered Love, right?”

Charles looks pleased, “Yes! That’s one of hers, how do you know it?”

Dylan glances at Kevin and says; “You know it’s like a gay cult classic, right?” 

Jughead and Charles had seen the movie together at the local arthouse cinemas when it premiered. The story was about a man who was being emotionally abused by his wife and found release in his life drawing class, and then with his life-drawing model. The story was centred around the angst and pain of not accepting one’s true nature. Polly played the wife and Jason the husband, and the raw emotionality of the performance was breathtaking. The scene where Jason’s character admitted he didn’t love Polly’s was devastating, as they got to finally see the pain and struggle of both characters who had spent the majority of their lives trying to love a lie.

Charles hums, “Oh yeah, right, you would have seen it with Kevin. Jughead and I watched it together too. So that’s Polly. She’s a bit of a diva, but we love her. Anyway, that’s my darling sister Betty.”

Time slows for Jughead as he watches Dylan actually lick his lips. Jughead knows that Dylan is very, very straight and very into blondes. He also knows that he will do whatever is in his power, including calling in some FBI favours he was owed, to keep handsome doctor Dylan away from impressionable, young Betty Cooper. 

He decides that one hour at the gym was not enough to rid himself of the crazy anxiety fuelling him, and wants to smash something. If not Dylan’s perfectly chiselled jaw, than preferably Charles’s equally perfect face, followed by his stupid phone with stupid photos of his gorgeous sister.

“She looks…” Dylan is obviously having trouble with words, and Jughead hates him and his stupid doctor face. “Sweet.”

Charles sighs and puts his phone away, “She is the sweetest. There is no one in the world that is nicer than Betty. Right Jughead?”

“Yes, she is the most helpful person I’ve ever met,” he says truthfully. Charles smiles at him like he’s a blessing and he feels dirty again, like he’s pretending to be someone he’s not while he pines after Charles’s little sister. 

_Just pining though?_ His brain provides him a catalogue of images, freeze frames, if you will, of Jughead staring at a computer screen with a photo of Betty Cooper on it, cock in fist.

“Remember Christmas two years ago?” Charles asks him with a sideways glance. Kevin, who was there at the time, smirks knowingly.

Jughead does not remember much of Christmas two years ago because he got blackout drunk. He wouldn’t say it was in suppression to his feelings for Betty but he’d had some disturbingly real fantasies about her that night. 

He shakes his head, “Not really.”

Charles laughs, “Figures, you were totally wasted. Anyway Dylan, my sister sees Jughead acting the drunken fool, and instead of laughing at him like the rest of us did that night, she helps him up the stairs and tucks him into bed.”

Jughead feels his face flush with mortification at the words. He vaguely remembers that, but most of that night was a jumble of hyper-realism and blurriness and he has no idea what’s real and what’s not. 

Charles, the scoundrel, continues to laugh and tell the story to Dylan, “Yeah, so she even made him a hot water bottle and a cup of tea. Literally the cutest thing I have ever seen.”

Jughead laughs awkwardly, eyes on his plate, trying to ignore the rest of the breakfast party’s staring. He hopes in vain that he isn’t blushing. 

“Yeah, she’s super cute,” he says, face now flaming.

He refuses to meet Charles’s eyes for the rest of the meal.

~~~

It’s her second day on the job and Betty is bouncing in excitement as she goes through the list of cheerleaders’ names she has managed to collect from a Facebook group of which she didn’t know she was still a member. Cross-referencing the list of names with the Riverdale Yellow Pages, she has managed to match home numbers to the majority of the girls. She up the landline at her desk. 

She dials the first number. “Hi Mrs Delany, I am Betty Cooper, a reporter at _The Register,_ I hope you don’t mind, but I have a few questions surrounding your daughter’s fainting spell at cheerleading practice the week before summer vacation. Do you mind if I come over and ask some questions?”

Mrs Delany hangs up. 

Not all the calls are like that, to be fair, some of the responders actually shout at her and others swear. One kind woman tells her that she knows her parents and that she’s proud that Betty has a respectable job before she hangs up. 

At name number six, Chrystal Bui, she hits gold. 

“Oh sure,” Mrs Bui says earnestly, “Betty Cooper was it? Not a problem darling. Come around and have a chat. Chrystie has put so much of this nonsense online and everything, so I’m sure she will have no qualms talking to you about it whatsoever.”

“Thank you Mrs Bui!”

“We will see you shortly my dear.”

Once her call around is complete, of the list of sixteen cheerleaders that are all part of the River Vixens Facebook group, she has four willing to talk to her. Betty starts packing up her desk and goes to leave the office to start her fieldwork.

Val looks up from her desk as she notices Betty moving. “First field outing? Want me to come with you?”

Betty smiles and shakes her head; she knows how to do this. She has been doing it her whole high school and college life. 

Val nods, with an impressed look on her face and stretches in her chair. “I envy you right now, I would kill to be interviewing cheerleaders about weird and mysterious fainting spells rather than siting though stacks of financial paperwork.”

Betty laughs, “No you wouldn’t; I’ve read your articles. This is you in your element: financial investigation. I personally couldn’t think of anything more boring, but someone has to do it.”

“Absolutely,” Val grins, “Plus, I know there is something dodgy going on here with the Southside prison’s “angel investors”, I mean, come on, it’s not a biotech start-up or a phony blockchain venture, it’s a goddamn prison. Money doesn’t magic itself out of nowhere in the prison system; it’s always a government scam or inmates rights abuse. Anyway, numbers never lie. Someone has to follow the money.”

“And it might as well be you?” Betty teases her. She knows that she and Val just met yesterday, but there is something so effortless in being around her that it makes Betty feel at ease, like being around Charles.

“For sure,” Val agrees. “Now, go enjoy yourself, get those old River Vixen charms working and get some answers!”

Betty leaves with a huge smile on her face. 

She steps out on the street into the warm Riverdale sun and stretches like a cat. She feels really good today. She loves being home with JB and Veronica around, and Jughead will be coming home in three days! Catching herself dancing, she slaps her cheeks quickly and hops into the car. Work time.

Betty drives to the edges of Riverdale to Chrystie’s house. It’s a classic eighties build: dark brick contrasted with alarmingly white pillars, and old lady is sitting on the porch looking out over the lawn. Betty feels like she should have brought cake or something as she walks up the path in her heeled sandals. 

“Hi Mrs Bui,” Betty says politely to the older lady, “So lovely to meet you.”

“Oh hello there darling,” says the woman, “You can call me Claudia. What are you doing here today?”

“Well Claudia, I was hoping to speak to Chrystie. Is she home?”

“Yes, yes dearie, please go in,” Claudia says pointing to the house, “The door is open. Once you get inside, can you get Denise to bring me out some more ginger snaps? Mine seem to have disappeared.”

Betty grins, “I think the birds must have stolen them.”

Claudia winks at her, “Without a doubt!”

Betty giggles as she knocks on the door and lets herself in. “Mrs Bui? Denise?” she calls, “Chrystal?”

“In the kitchen!” Came the response. 

Betty walked in the direction of the voice and found herself in a disturbingly early naughties kitchen with a bright red splashback and shiny black surfaces. 

“You must be Betty,” Denise proffers her hand, “Welcome. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes please, that would be lovely,” she says, sitting down on a bench stool. “I am so sorry if this is overstepping, but Claudia mentioned that she would like some ginger snaps?”

Denise laughs, “Nice try mom! Ask a pretty blonde to get you cookies. No Betty, she has diabetes. It runs in the family, I’m afraid, so there are no sweets in this house. But she’s a really tricky one, so I’m not surprised you feel for her charms.”

She flicks on the kettle and says, “Let me go get Chrystie.”

Betty sends JB and V a picture of herself in their kitchen as a weird memento of her first-ever adult interview. Veronica responds immediately, sending a picture of her looking frazzled over a sewing machine. The kettle boils and Denise walks back in with Chrystal in tow.

“Hi Chrystal, I’m Betty from _The Register._ I would love to get your story about the troubles you and your team had in your last week of practice.”

“Whatever,” Chrystal says and Denise shoots her a troubled look.

“Chrystie,” Denise admonishes, “I thought you wanted to speak to the press?”

“Mom, I have already vlogged about everything, so there’s literally no point.”

“Well,” Betty interrupts, sweetly, “There is one point.”

Chrystal looks decidedly disinterested at talking to her, so Betty tries to go with what she thinks Chrystal will respond to based on her brief social media stalking this morning. 

“Exposure,” she points out. Chrystie looks at her in interest so Betty continues, reeling her in, “We have excellent circulation – you know – followers, even online. We could link your vlog or personal website if you agree to provide some quotes?”

Chrystal looks at her mom, who nods and makes a “go forth” motion with her hands. She roll her eyes and plonks herself down at the kitchen bench lamenting, “Fiiiiiine. But can we keep it quick? You’re fucking with my summer.”

Denise rebukes, “Chrystal Sara Bui, please remember your manners.”

Betty smiles, not really minding. She knows the drill. 

“Okay Chrystal,” Betty says pulling out her phone, “I am going to record you so that I can reference our conversation later. Is that okay?”

Chrystal nods. 

Betty turns on the recording app, “Okay, can you please state your name and age.”

“Chrystal Sara Bui, sixteen years old.”

“Thank you,” Betty says, also opening her notebook and taking out a purple ink pen. She thinks better when the colours are less boring. “So can you please tell me what happened during your last week of cheerleading practise at Riverdale High?”

“Urgh!” Chrystie bitches, “Not much to tell really. Like, we all went to practise and then some of my team started to have these weird seizures.”

“Okay,” Betty says, smiling, “What day was this?”

“Thursday, last week of school.”

“Did everyone have “seizures”, as you called them?”

Chrystie pauses, “No, I didn’t have a seizure, and I think maybe half the girls did? I can tell you their names?”

“That would be helpful.”

Betty writes the names down as Chrystie speaks and nods, remembering most of them from her ring around this morning. Denise comes over and puts a mug down on the table next to her. Betty smiles at her in thanks.

“Can you describe the actual seizure? What time did it start? Was it the same for all of the girls?”

“It more or less started at the same time, I suppose, a few minutes into practice. Jenny was the first to start shaking. She’s pretty small, so maybe it affected her first? I don’t know,” Chrystie says, looking up as if trying to see into her brain and remember. “Her limbs were flailing around and stuff, like they were twitching with electricity. At first, I kind of thought she was just putting it on. Then, it was almost like a chain reaction, like it was fucking contagious. Jenny passed out. Cara went, then Susie, then Quinn. I don’t remember after that. We just watched as our team dropped to the floor of the gym. One of the girls ran to get a teacher. Another one, Isabelle, she rolled the girls on their sides so they couldn’t swallow their tongues. Her mom is a nurse.”

Betty is grateful for this Isabelle, wherever she is. “Did they all pass out?”

“No,” Chrystie says slowly, “Just Jenny. But they all had seizures.”

Betty nods, “What did the nurse do?” 

“Well,” Chrystie swallows, “She called the paramedics and then they all got tested for drugs. Apparently, and I heard this from Jenny in confidence, so don’t print this please, that she tested positive for both amphetamines and methamphetamines.”

“Does Jenny take drugs normally?” Betty asks, concerned.

“No way!” Chrystal says vehemently, “Jenny is Cheer Captain and the most straight laced of us all; she would never ever do something to put cheering or the squad in jeopardy.”

Betty nods, “Do you know how they were tested?”

Chrystal shakes her head, “I dunno, I think they peed in a cup or something?”

“Okay, do you remember those particular girls doing anything unusual earlier that day?”

Chrystal shakes her head again, “No, but I don’t have classes with most of them, to be honest. I wouldn’t really know.”

Betty asks Chrystal a few more questions and then leaves the Bui house thanking them for their time. Chrystal actually suggests that if Betty wants to talk again, that she will make time.

Betty drives to her second location on her list, which is a house in the middle of the Southside. The Southside was mostly constructed in the sixties when the tech and chemical manufacturing plants had all appeared due to cheap land and council subsidies. Riverdale had been a prosperous town in that time. As technology improved and processing became more automated and the residents of Riverdale learnt of the toxic effects of chemicals, the wealthier Northsiders had run the company out of town for fear of their children’s health. The Southsiders were primarily the ones that lost their livelihoods and work when Riverdale went back to being “clean”. Since then there has been bad blood between both sides. 

She parks in front of a sorely neglected house and takes a deep calming breath. This is her job, this is her life: nothing to it. 

She tugs at her ponytail and steels herself before getting out. 

The busyness of the street relaxes her as she sees high school children playing and riding BMXs on poorly constructed ramps. 

She straightens her shoulders and walks up the rickety stairs to the front door and knocks sharply. 

There is no response. 

She knocks again. “Hello? This is Betty Cooper from _The Register._ We spoke on the phone?”

She can hear the door being unlocked, but when it opens, she can’t see inside as the security door obstructs her line of sight. 

“Betty Cooper?” Says an odious voice. She stops herself from shuddering outright, her hackles raised. 

“Yes,” she says, her voice higher pitched and breathier than she would like it to be. She discreetly clears her throat. 

“Come in, beautiful.” The man opens the security door and she looks upon his face. Mid fifties, probably quite good-looking in his youth, but with the tinges of red around his eyes that spelled sleepless nights. The clothes he wears are dirty and shabby and Betty can smell stale alcohol wafting off him. 

_No!_ Betty’s brain supplies. She takes a short breath. 

“Is your daughter home?” Betty says, digging her heels into the front porch. 

The man looks at her oddly and glances back down the hallway, “Oh yeah. She sure is.”

Betty smiles sweetly and thinks on her feet, “Oh so you’re Laura Novak’s dad?”

A brief flicker crosses the man’s face and he nods, “Yes I am.”

 _Perfect,_ Betty thinks quickly and takes a step back, off the porch. “Oh, I seem to have the wrong house. I was looking for a Alison White.”

The man blanches and takes a step out of his house towards her. Betty turns on heel and bolts out of the yard towards her car and almost barrels into someone in her panic to leave. 

“Hey,” The figure says and she looks up at him, blindly struggling. She just wants to get out of there as fast as her legs can carry her. “Betty, it’s okay, it is Sweet Pea.”

She relaxes instantly and Sweet Pea holds her upright, turning to face the direction she ran from. “Is that guy bothering you?”

She takes a shaky breath and nods. Sweet Pea puts his whole body in front of her and presses his fists together, as if using his giant muscly arms as a shield. She stands behind him, catching her breath and reassembling her scattered, terrified thoughts. 

When Sweet Pea seems satisfied that the threat has been taken care of, he turns around and takes her hand in his. “Are you okay?”

She wills herself not to cry in shock and nods, “Thank you. I really appreciate you helping me. What good timing.”

Sweet Pea nods, “Yeah, I am on my way to my aunt’s house, she lives down that street. You took me by surprise, in any case.”

She laughs a little breathlessly. 

“I’ll walk you to your car, okay Betty?” He looks at her with concern and Betty feels touched by the warmth in his expression.

He waits with her until she gets into her car and drives away, breathing a long sigh of relief. 

~~~

**7.13pm Tuesday, group chat**

**My Queen V:** How did your super sleuthing go Betty?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Alright, I found some weird stuff is going on at the school, but I can’t talk more until I know more

 **My Amex Black Card:** Aww boo! Spill 

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Nah, but I will tell you what. Field work is super messed up. Some guy tried to lure me into his house under false pretences. Lol 

**My Amex Black Card:** Y U SAY LOL? WTF? That’s so fucked up. Are you okay? Should I burn his house down?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Lol

 **My Amex Black Card:** Betty, your replies are nonsensical. WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?

 **My Queen V:** What a creep – I’m glad you’re okay. 

**My Amex Black Card:** Please call me next time so I can kick his teeth in. Or ear-clap him. Or both. 

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Well I’m fine thanks to Sweet Pea, but I feel sorry for all journalists everywhere 

**My Amex Black Card:** SWEET PEA? 

**My Queen V:** What about you? Stop feeling sorry for everyone else and be angrier! 

**My Amex Black Card:** Yeah, @Mrs Jughead Jones – get fucking ANGRY! Should I burn his house? But SWEET PEA?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Haha JB :) Also yes, Sweet Pea. What a lifesaver. He’s really something

 **My Amex Black Card:** Oh no, this is not good

**My Queen V:** ???

 **My Amex Black Card:** Nothing. Just thinking aloud. 

**My Amex Black Card:** Anyway, should I burn his house down?

 **My Amex Black Card:** Guys, I am being legit serious here 

**My Amex Black Card:** Guys?

~~~

“You two are absolute darlings for helping us out with this,” Alice says to Veronica, who is patiently guillotining place name cards and JB, who is definitely not helping, but instead practicing her guitar. Betty is threading fake ivy through different size birdcages. 

Veronica, who has always been a bit in love with Alice since her own mother is such an absentee parent, says, “It’s honestly a pleasure Alice. I am so glad I managed to swing an invite to this wedding at all!”

“Nonsense,” Alice scoffs, smiling kindly at her, “You are part of the family, darling, we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Veronica swells in pleasure with the affection she is so often denied.

Betty joins in, “Absolutely. You’re my soul sister. You too JB.”

JB looks up at Betty and Veronica, and seems horrified at the idea of contributing, so just death-growls, “Hey sister, go sister, soul sister” from the Lady Marmalade song. Alice looks both amused and alarmed.

Then JB thinks for a moment and says casually, “If you weren’t officially invited V, I would have invited you as my plus one.”

Veronica’s cheeks flush pink and her lips curve into a cute, tiny smile, before saying, “Really? I mean, we could still do that.”

JB looks a little shocked at the suggestion, “Yeah alright. You and I…together…”

She trails off for a moment and then gets a glint in her eye and turns to Betty. “I mean, who else will hang out with me while my so-called best friend Betty Cooper moons after my brother the whole night?” JB smiles wickedly and Betty hates for a moment that she is never fast enough on the uptake to tease JB about anything, ever. 

“I do not moon!” She insists, but Alice and JB are staring at her like she’s grown another head. “Plus, we have to walk up the aisle together because-,”

“This is actually your wedding and Charles/Kevin is a sweet but convenient ruse behind which to hide?” JB supplies unhelpfully. Alice is trying to hide her smile unsuccessfully behind her hand. 

Betty ineffectually throws a bit of ivy at her, which has terrible aerodynamics and floats away from JB to the ground, “No, you dolt! Because I am a bridesmaid!”

JB taps her chin in mock contemplation, “Shouldn’t Jughead be walking with Kevin’s best man, whatever his name is then?”

Betty’s eyes widen slightly in stress. “Dylan. Yes, but Charles said…”

Alice casts JB a warning look and hastily reassures Betty, “Honey don’t worry at all, JB is just teasing you. I have seen the line up and you will be seated next to Jughead the whole night.”

Betty now feels horribly flushed and embarrassed as JB gives her a rakish grin and raises her eyebrows suggestively. 

“I’m not worried about that!” She insists and tosses her ponytail, “I just want to make sure I know all the details so that Charles’s day goes smoothly.”

Alice’s smile is indulgent when she says, “Oh honey, of course it will go smoothly. We are Coopers and if we can do anything well, it’s perfectly execute a plan. Now, Veronica, how are you going on those cards?”

She leans over and inspects Veronica’s handiwork, “Wow, look at those clean lines, such precision. No wonder you’re a fashion designer.”

Veronica trembles at the praise and Betty just wants to hug her. Veronica is exceptionally talented, but unlike JB and Betty, she didn’t have the same litany of followers and supporters encouraging her to pursue her dreams. Betty was pretty sure that for Veronica’s graduation, Hiram Lodge left her a blank cheque for college on the kitchen bench before going to work and Hermione was too busy filming a TV- adapted remake of The Purple Rose of Cairo to attend. 

“I’m making my own dress for the wedding,” Veronica says and JB’s fingers slip off the guitar strings. Betty points in triumph at JB’s expression. JB pokes her tongue out in response.

“That sounds positively marvellous Veronica,” Alice trills, “Do you have photos or do you want it to be a surprise?”

Veronica smiles and says, “I want it to be a surprise.” Betty does not miss the way her eyes flick over to JB, who is now firmly concentrating on her complicated string plucking. “But, I will say that it is a deep scarlet colour. Think red wine.”

Alice hums in approval, “Oh wow, I can’t wait to see it. I bet it will be magnificent. Have you seen Betty’s bridesmaids dress?”

Veronica shakes her head, “Not in real life, but in photos I have. It’s a blush pink colour, right Betty?”

Betty nods. “Yeah, it’s covered in little crystals, very fairy-tale,” she says to appease her mother. “Kevin wants Polly and I to wear tiaras too.”

Veronica squeals delightedly and JB looks up from her guitar, startled by the sound. “What’s going on?” She asks, confused, “What did I miss?”

“Betty is wearing a tiara!” Veronica explains, but JB just looks dumbfounded and possibly even more confused than before.

There’s a momentary silence before JB says, “Ohhh,” as if she’s completely across everything and then turns back to her music. Veronica rolls her eyes at the lost cause. 

“Can I interest any of you ladies in some dessert?” Alice asks, walking smoothly to the kitchen. 

“Oh yeah, Alice!” Cheers JB, finally back on known ground. “Got any of that ice cream from the other day?”

Alice looks gratified and smiles at JB, “Of course JB, I made heaps and Betty has hardly touched it!” 

“It’s been like four days mom!” Betty protests, as she’s already feeling like she’s eaten too much since she’s been home. 

“So?” JB asks, taking the huge bowl of ice cream Alice presents her, with an insane grin on her face, “I would have smashed through this already.”

“Yeah but you Joneses have fast metabolisms,” Betty grumbles into her ivy wrapped birdcages. 

JB crooks an eyebrow at her and tucks in, “Oh Alice, you used proper vanilla bean in this didn’t you? Betty, girl, you are so spoilt.”

“Says you!” Betty shoots back, before stepping back and announcing, “Done!”

Alice looks over at her and her fifty ivy-woven birdcages with a soft expression. “Perfect honey. Can I get you to now thread through the copper fairy lights?”

Betty looks at the stack of batteries and copper wires with lights embedded in them. “Oh, sure…”

“Wonderful,” Alice makes a shooing gesture with her hand and continues to speak to JB, “So Betty tells me that you’re playing at the Whyte Wyrm soon – that’s so great! In the eighties, your mom and I snuck in while we were still underage to see the _Pretty Poisons_ live. We tore the house down that night.” 

Betty can hear the wistful beauty in her mother’s tone and tries to imagine the dusty, worn-down Whyte Wyrm in the ‘80’s, filled with smokers, bad perms and shoulder pads. She smiles at the thought. 

“My mom broke into the Whyte Wyrm? No way! I don’t believe you!” JB’s voice was incredulous. “Ahh damn, brain freeze!” 

While JB rubs her head and moans at the counter top, Alice leans over and tells her tale, “Oh yes, your mother and I were huge fans of female-led rock bands of the eighties: Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, The Runaways (obviously more Joan Jett), The Pretenders, Siouxsie Sioux… anyway I digress. The Pretty Poisons were Greendale born and raised, did you know that? Well, the singer was top notch. She had this amazing long blonde and pink hair and wore black leather police cap and these tiny shorts over fishnets. Honestly, she was a knockout. She did that kind of singing that Joan does, but then could sing these sexy blues ballads. Your mom and I loved her and we wanted to be there. I think I still have their leather jacket somewhere in my wardrobe.”

“Oh my god mom!” Betty exclaims, never having seen this side of her mother before. “Go get it! We have to see this!”

Alice looks at the three girls who are nodding insistently, and laughs softly, “Oh alright.”

She goes to the bedroom at the front of the house. 

JB looks at Betty and says, “Your mom and my mom are both ex punkers? Holy shit, this I could have never imagined in a million years.”

Betty laughs, “Now you can actually talk to your mom about music.”

JB looks thoughtful, “I wonder why she hasn’t said anything to me before.”

Alice returns, jacked folded in her arms and laughs, “Oh I know why. She’s worried that she would set a bad standard for you and Jughead when it comes to love and the law.”

“What?” JB screeches, her mouth filled with vanilla ice cream, “You have to tell me Alice, you can’t just drop that shi – ah stuff, yeah stuff – in front of me and then tell me I have to talk to goody two-shoes Gladys about it.”

Alice smirks and flicks her curled hair to one side, “JB, honey, do you know how your parents met?”

“Yeah,” JB says swallowing a mouthful of ice cream in haste, apparently not having learnt her lesson with the brain freeze from earlier, “They met at a concert.”

“Yes,” Alice smiles, reminiscing, “The Pretty Poisons.”

“Yeah, but dad said he was working for the Sheriff then, so that must mean that…” Betty could see her friend’s head spinning as she though through implications. 

Alice grins, clearly taking pleasure in having one over JB for once. “We were seventeen and we snuck into the gig of the year, without our parents noticing we were gone. It was the best thing we did in high school, without a doubt. The gig got way out of hand though…” Alice laughs and says, “You know how there’s that huge scorch mark on one of the walls and the owners painted a frame around it and placed a plaque that reads-,”

“In memory of the wildest night in our history, long live 1986 and the Pretty Poisons!” JB interjects and then says, “Holy shit, you and my mom were there the night the fire started.”

“JB,” Alice begins and shakes her head, “Honey, you should really talk to your mom about this, but she was the one who technically started the fire.”

“Oh. My. God!” JB is hyperventilating in utter excitement at the thought of her mom being a secret badass. “Dad arrested her, didn’t he?”

Alice laughs, “Yeah, your dad was twenty, I think, and he lays eyes on your mother, who is covered in scorch marks and ash and I think he just fell in love with her then and there.”

“Oh my god, that’s so romantic,” sighs Veronica, as if her own parents hadn’t met at a Red Carpet event in Hollywood. 

“My parents are actually cool! Well, no, mom is! She’s a pyro, oh my god, this is the best day, I have to call Jughead and tell him,” JB rattles off.

“Is that the Pretty Poisons jacket, Alice?” Veronica asks and Alice nods, holding it up. It’s mostly black with an acid plum colour collar, cuffs and pocket edging and there’s a giant hot pink skull and cross bones slapped over a pair of lips on the back. The words “Pretty Poisons” are stamped over the art.

“Put in on mom!” Betty shouts and Alice blushes excitedly.

She easily gives in and slips the jacket on, marvelling at how it still fit her figure.

JB whistles and Alice waves her hands, saying, “Leather can make anyone look good. Do you want it JB?”

JB looks at her a little shocked and says, “Alice, are you sure?”

“Yeah, what am I going to do with this? You girls will have way more fun with it. Maybe one of you can take it for a spin at the Whyte Wyrm when you go there for the Serpents gig?” Alice grins wickedly and says, “Go give Tall Boy a heart attack for me and your mom.”

“Wow Alice, you are so cool!” JB sighs as she catches the jacket. 

Alice gives her a knowing grin and claps her hands together once and commands, “Okay, back to wedding decorations ladies.”

JB rolls her eyes and chooses to study the jacket instead, smiling. 

~~~

**11.17pm Wednesday, Betty’s Instagram feed**

**SouthsideSerpents** Watch JB and her brother Jughead face off in the on-going chin up challenge ::powerful guns:: ::snake:: Who will be the champion of round 2: family versus Serpents?

Liked by: SerpentQueen_JB, TheVeronicaLodge, ToniTopaz, TheSweetestPea and 11,020 others

Comments:  
**SerpentSlut:** JB, your brother is super hot, but I love you more

 **MetalliCat:** No, JB bring your brother back! Can he play anything? 

**LovingJones:** He can play me ;) 

**YearoftheSerpent:** Loving this challenge! Can’t wait to see Fangs versus his step-brother Joaquin ::fire::

 **SnakeInMyPants:** Can you upload the full six minutes to your YouTube channel? Yuuuum

~~~

Betty looks at her phone and almost melts into her bed then and there. It’s Jughead on _social media_ and suddenly nothing is more important than her watching this video. At least once. For scientific purposes. 

She clicks on it and is instantly greeted by JB’s wide grin. She’s wearing a loose white singlet with her tattooed arms out in full glory and a simple black crop top behind it. She is also sporting denim cut offs and Betty is surprised she is showing that much leg: JB is usually a little more conservative. She still has Jughead’s beanie jammed on over her head as she waves to the camera, blue eyes shining. 

“Yo snakessss!” she hollers at the camera and Betty is grinning at her infectious enthusiasm. “I’m joined in spirit and through the power of digital technology by my older brother, Jughead, for this inaugural challenge.”

The video cuts to Jughead and Betty hears a sigh escape her. He’s _shirtless (holy crap!)_ and his blue eyes are dark and piercing. Has he always looked this gorgeous? Has he always been this _ripped?_ She knew she was staring at Sweet Pea’s arms in surprise on Monday, because well, he’s pretty and she’s human, but _honestly this,_ this is something else entirely. She absently wipes her mouth; afraid she’s drooling and stares helplessly at the screen, entranced. 

“This had better be the first and the last, JB,” Jughead gives a put upon sigh, one eyebrow raised to camera. Betty feels impossibly hot, as if he is staring right at her. 

The camera goes back to JB who is smirking and saying, “No way, you win, you proceed to the next round. You can’t throw it either. Your adoring fans will know.”

Jughead has appeared on the Southside Serpents’ Instagram a few times over the years and, much to Betty’s dismay, he has grown a loyal following of screaming female fans. She exhales slowly and reminds herself not to go through the comments again. Last time, she had set herself off into a small anxiety attack with her thoughts of Jughead meeting someone cute and available at JB’s gig and falling in love. 

Jughead sighs again, but he smiles the Jones crooked smile and Betty feels like hot liquid is pooling in her belly, and she wishes he would smile at her like so. 

“Okay, let’s do this. What are the rules?” Jughead asks.

“We do as many chin-ups as we can, trying to get through our latest track: River Vixen. It’s over six minutes long, so if you last the whole way, you go straight to the finals.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, “There are literally seven rounds to this, so…”

JB interrupts him and says, “I think you’re just chicken! Afraid this snake is gonna bite?”

“Fine!” Jughead throws his hands up into the air and positions the camera in front of the chin up bar in his apartment. Betty finds herself perving on the surrounding décor: is that a photo of them from Christmas she spies on the fridge? 

“Great,” JB sings, her whole body vibrating with excitement, “Your time starts…”

The opening sounds of the song are straight in to JB’s wild and erratic shredding and Betty feels alive as she watches her friend power through a series of very impressive chin-ups. The video cuts back to Jughead and his chest is glistening with sweat as he moves and Betty wants to lick it off and just run her tongue between his abs. He looks so delicious; his arms so powerful and strong, that Betty feels deeply aroused. 

Betty is hardly paying attention by the time JB gives up and concedes defeat; she has shamelessly traced her hand into her underwear and is tentatively touching herself. She hears herself give a breathy little moan and just watches Jughead’s rippling body, imagining him touching her like this, his eyes going dark as he watches her come. She shivers at how achingly wet she is. Betty plunges her fingers inside of herself with an edge of desperation, wishing for so much more than she can give herself. 

When the video stops, she starts it again from halfway so she can continue to drool over his strength. She fantasises about Jughead and his gorgeous body over hers, overwhelming her, making love to her and she comes with a sharp cry. 

He’s still going when she calms down and finally looks back at the video. Her fingers are wet and she feels a little naughty, just having brought herself to orgasm while watching Jughead… do chin-ups? 

_Jesus. Am I really this desperate?_

She loves the video because she is strong supporter of the Serpents and nothing more. Moments later her phone pings with a text from JB.

 **JB:** You’re up late, future Mrs Jones 

**Betty:** Just helping mom with some more wedding stuff

 **JB:** Liar

 **Betty:** What do you want JB? What can I do for you?

 **JB:** More like, what can I do for you? I’ve got the whole video of Jug if you want it. Uncut ;)

 _Yes, I am this desperate,_ she groans and watches the file download. _It’s going to be a long night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I know it's super fluff at the moment, but don't worry, the next chapter will add a teensy bit of angst and all the ones after that will be filled with so much sexual tension you will want to punch your hand through the computer and tear my throat out <3 
> 
> Also, you may have noticed that I upped the rating to explicit, because apparently when I write sex scenes they just end up as porn.


	4. A brief interlude: Surviving Christmas (three years prior)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did JB slash Jughead’s tyres? Why does Betty think Joneses are easily manipulated through food? What happened to send Jughead into a tailspin over Betty? All these questions (and more) will be answered in this flashback chapter! Also, I’m just adding a bit of angst because I can ;)
> 
> Note that I have taken wild artistic liberties with the town of Riverdale and the Cooper house layout. I trust you will all be okay with this :)
> 
> T/W - homophobia

It’s the annual Cooper/Jones mandatory (unless for extremely good reasons and your parents give you expressed written permission to not be there) Christmas gathering. 

Polly filed her excuse in October: she and Jason are presently on set for a film called “Whispered Love”. Or, probably not “on set”, because actors need holidays too, but Betty imagines that her sister and Jason are curled up in some log cabin, drinking mulled wine in front of a fireplace and watching the snow fall outside. 

Betty doesn’t really mind; everything typically runs a little smoother without Polly around. Plus Jason is a bit of name-dropper, so dinners with him tend to get tedious and she often finds herself making amused eye contact with the rest of her family while Polly just stares dreamily at Jason. At least she’s happy though, right?

Charles came back earlier than usual this year, so they have spent the past week hanging out and catching up on all the cool FBI stuff that he has been learning and doing. Betty finds herself extremely jealous, and although just in her first year of journalism, she somewhat wishes that she could now jump into the FBI after college. The thought of working with _Jughead_ makes her heart pound. 

Betty sighs loudly as she helps her mom set the table for dinner tonight. 

She knows that her crush is stupid, unrequited and yet she still pines after him. She dreams about him kissing her, and… other things… She may be a virgin at nineteen, but she’s watched movies before. 

Betty has loved Jughead Jones for as long as she can remember. Maybe it didn’t start out as romantic love, but she has always admired him. He has a beautiful way with words that makes her think he’s speaking in poems; she loves the cadence of his voice and the richness of it. She thinks he’s the smartest person she’s ever met and his opinions are so interesting and well considered. She loves how much he adores and cares about JB. 

“Oh, Betty,” Charles interrupts her Jughead-dreams and says, “I think we need an extra place.”

“Really?” Alice calls from the kitchen, “Who are we missing? There are eight of us.”

“Nine,” Charles corrects and refuses to meet her eye for some reason. Betty is holding the plates out, awaiting instructions. “Jughead is bringing his girlfriend.”

_Smash._

Betty realises in horror that the plate she was holding has slipped out of her hand and shattered on the hardwood floor. 

Charles orders her, “Don’t move!”

He is wearing shoes inside so he walks over the broken plate and picks Betty up. He carries her to the edge of the stairs and gives her a deeply apologetic look. She has no idea what expression must be on her face, but she’s assuming it is shock. 

Jughead has a _girlfriend_? 

Charles returns with a warm mug of something, which he puts in her shaking hands. “It’s eggnog,” he says and winks, “Plus brandy.”

“Thank you Charles,” she whispers brokenly and his face collapses slightly. 

“Oh Betty,” he says in hushed tones, pulling her into a hug, “I’m so sorry, I should have been more gentle with you about that.”

“About what?” She asks, because she’s locked her brain deep inside a vault so she can’t – won’t – think about Jughead’s _girlfriend._

The whole thing makes her feel sick to her stomach. She felt stupid and childish for loving a guy who clearly doesn’t even care about her. Cooper/Jones Christmases are sacred, and Jughead knows this. Deep down, Betty believes that must be bringing his girlfriend because he is sincerely in love with her. And as that possibility dances around the back of her mind, she wants to scream into the wind: _I haven’t even been given a proper chance yet!_

Charles sighs and shakes his head, “Nothing Betty. Have some eggnog.”

He releases her and she clasps the mug in both hands before taking a large gulp of the frothy liquid. It’s warm and milky, and there’s a hint brandy burn in the back that Betty really needs right now.

“Better?” Charles asks softly.

She shakes her head, looking down, “Can I have some more brandy?”

He chuckles and ruffles her hair, “You utter scamp! But yes, of course. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t sneak my sister a drink on Christmas?”

He laughs and takes the mug from her. 

Hal finishes sweeping up the last of the smashed plate and jokes, “You really got it into everything, didn’t you?”

“Dad!” She complains and stamps her foot. 

“I’m just saying! Really efficient plate smash. Ten out of ten for execution.”

She knows her dad is trying to joke with her, but she’s too devastated to feel any semblance of mirth. She wants to bury herself under the covers of her duvet, watch dumb rom coms and cry forever. 

Alice shoots Hal a warning look, “Hal. Give the girl a break. Can’t you see she’s distraught?”

Hal looks panicked, “Oh no! Betty, pumpkin, I am so sorry! I was trying to make you laugh! Ignore me, I’m hopeless!”

Betty wants to say that she’s not distraught, she’s totally fine and that she doesn’t care about Jughead’s girlfriend or whatever, but when she opens her mouth she can feel her bottom lip trembling and tears welling in her eyes. 

“Oh honey!” Alice cries and as if on cue, the entire Cooper family descend on Betty, hugging her, stroking her hair and telling her that everything will be fine. Betty loves them with all of her heart and desperately wants to believe their kind words, but she feels so hollow. 

She has been waiting for so long to see him, ( _Almost a year_ her brain reminds her, snidely) and she thought that she could finally prove to him that she wasn’t some young high schooler, some dumb kid, but a _college student_ and a woman, with wants and needs. 

And Betty Cooper wants Jughead Jones. 

When they all step back from the hug, Charles hands her the mug of laced eggnog with a secret smile. Betty gives him a teary smile in return. 

Alice puts on a bright expression and says, “How about we go do your hair, Betty?” She turns to Hal and Charles and says, “I know you gentlemen will do a marvellous job of finishing up. We have women’s business to attend to.”

Charles gives a deep mock bow and gestures up the stairs, “My ladies.”

Betty giggles and Alice reaches out to tuck Betty’s arm in her own. “My darling, beautiful Elizabeth, shall we go upstairs and have a little chat?”

Betty nods and lets her mother lead her upstairs.

~~~ 

Not fucking forty-eight hours in Riverdale and Jughead Jones is having the worst trip of his life. This was way worse than his summer trip three and a half years ago where his parents had forced him to come home and spend time with them against his will. At that time, he was in college and had finally turned twenty-one. He wanted to just hang out with Charles and the guys, get wasted and hit on every blonde that he could find. Well, not just blondes, because, it wasn’t like he had a muse – ah - type. Right?

This time, however, is undeniably worse. JB is in the foulest mood of her life; he can practically feel the waves of anguish and despair that roll off her when she tells him to “get fucked” instead of talking to him. He has never seen her look so _helpless_ and it makes him scared for what she’s going to do. He knows JB has gotten into trouble countless times at school for hitting boys, but he can’t help but think that those dickheads probably deserved it at some point. This mood is different. It’s self-destructive and permeates her every move. Normally he can pull JB out of any funk, he can make her smile over anything. But not this time. Something bad happened to JB and she is still reeling. 

Yesterday morning, after finally arriving in Riverdale after the long drive, he had introduced his new girlfriend to his family. 

JB had taken one look at Tessa and rolled her eyes. Jughead felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach as JB had given him the filthiest glare of her life. He felt hurt and betrayed. _That_ was the look that she gave to scumbags. _That_ was the look she gave to assholes. She had _never_ looked at him like that in her life and Jughead felt his heart fracture a little. 

Over the past forty-eight hours, Jughead had tried literally everything he could think of to help Tessa and his family get along. Despite all his best efforts, Tessa seems to grate on every single nerve they had. His parents are extremely patient people: they had raised JB, lest they forget. But even their good graces had limits and that limit seemed to be Tessa. 

This morning, she had showered so long that the hot water ran out. She spent half of yesterday talking on her phone to her friends loudly in the living room causing his parents to miss their favourite police drama. They didn’t say anything to him; they just shook their heads in disappointment. She tried to steal JB’s beanie for a selfie and JB had nearly broken her arm. She thought she was being funny and cute with her ditzy act, but her baby voice was even making _him_ cringe and no amount of blowjobs in his childhood bedroom was ever going to make up for him feeling horribly judged by his family. 

Tessa, it seems clear to him now, is a moron. He feels stupid bringing her here. Bringing her to meet his family as if she _meant something_ to him. At the time when she’d asked to come with him to Riverdale, they had just had sex for the second time that morning and he was lying in his bed in his apartment he shares with Charles in D.C., a bit hung over thinking, “life just can’t get better than this” and thought: “to hell with it, we are in love”. 

But soon after they started the long drive over he realised that he and Tessa had literally nothing in common. Admittedly, he had spent the entire trip with his face locked into a grimace as he listened to her talk. They’d hooked up at a party because she had long legs and blonde hair and cute smile that, when he was blind drunk, made him think of _her_ and he wanted that so badly, he couldn’t help himself. 

Now he feels at best, like an impossible ass and at worst, a misleading douche. His sister is mad at him, his parents look so fucking disappointed and in less than two hours he is going to have to see _her_ with this bimbo by his side and pretend like everything is fine. He feels like a fucking nervous wreck. 

At present, Tessa is getting ready in the upstairs bathroom. JB is in her room, having announced to the family that she was “fucking done with everyone here” and is now shredding violently on her Stratocaster with the amp on full blast. His mother walks over to him in the kitchen. 

“Jughead,” his mother says to him and her voice is so soft, it’s almost hard to hear, and JB’s din is no help, “Can you please drive yourself to the Coopers?”

He knows what she wants to say: Tessa isn’t welcome here. But his mother hates confrontation, so as usual she chooses to manoeuvre around the issue. He can’t blame her because generally, Jughead takes after his mother in emotional confrontation avoidance techniques. 

His dad and JB, however, are different. “Is that nitwit coming with us?” His dad asks brusquely and then shoots Jughead a look as if daring him to argue. “I can’t believe this is your first girlfriend. I thought you had taste.”

Jughead feels so ashamed with himself and he promises them, “I’m so sorry, I just wasn’t thinking. I’ll do better.”

Gladys has a look of pain in her eyes when she says, “What were you thinking, Jug? You know we love you, but this girl does not treat you well at all. We can’t stand by watching that.”

“Huh?” He says stupidly. 

Gladys gives him “the mom look” and he shuts up and listens to her, “Well, she keeps acting out like a small child having a tantrum whenever you pay attention to anything else but her. She baby talks to you in this horribly condescending fashion and calls you a loser all the time. It’s awful. Plus, I think she’s scared of JB. Although, to be fair, that could be more JB’s fault.”

Jughead doesn’t want to talk about how much his mother’s points had hit far too close to home, so he asks, “Yeah why is she being so weird?”

His mother sighs, “Late teens and early twenties are the worst times ever. I think she had a fight with her girlfriend, Toni, and they might be broken up now? I’m not too sure to be honest. She’s about as forthcoming as you. And the other thing you two both have in common is your awful taste in girlfriends. I mean, I actually like Toni as a person, but she’s a terrible influence on JB in romantic sense. It’s almost like JB is always second-guessing herself; she’s so anxious all the time.”

“It’s unlike her,” FP puts in, pushing his glasses up his nose, “She’s our little hell-cat. She was born with a reckless sense of confidence and she will smash every glass ceiling or anything - to be honest - that is put in her way. She is such a dedicated and talented musician. But Toni…” 

He sighs and says, “I think she’s also a bad first girlfriend. She’s not gentle enough with JB.”

“JB doesn’t need gentle,” Jughead scoffs. 

FP gives him a sharp look, “You both do, actually. You both need someone like Betty Coo-,”

Jughead snarls, primarily from the deep wells of embarrassment and shame that rest at the centre of his very being and his dad heaves a sigh, “Or Charles Cooper. But the point is, you both need someone who is going to help you feel cared for when you’re brooding, to lift you up when you’re hard on yourselves and someone who will look at you like you hang the moon.”

Jughead has never heard his dad be so eloquent about love, and finds himself taken aback by how much his comment just made sense. 

“So,” his dad continues driving the point home, “When we ask you: why her, Jughead? What we are really asking you is: Is this it? Is this all the love you think you deserve? Is this how you see yourself? Some lackey for an airhead that’s too self involved to understand how fortunate she is to have your love?”

He chokes and can feel tears welling in his eyes as he lets the words sink in. His parents envelop him into a warm soothing hug and he feels the tears track down his face. 

When did he start to hate himself? When did he start to feel so much self-pity? He doesn’t know, but he doesn’t want to be like this anymore. He wants to be okay, he wants to let himself believe that someone like _her_ could love him back one day. But first, he’s got to make himself worthy of her. 

Well, actually, first, he has to survive this fucking Christmas.

~~~

When her parents are in the lounge room and out of sight, Charles pours them each a shot of brandy. 

Betty tips it back and feels the burning liquid cover her throat. She coughs and smiles as Charles claps her heartily on the back. 

He takes the glass from her hand and discreetly washes it. “Dispose of the evidence,” he mock-whispers in such a JB-like tone that Betty laughs despite herself.

The look he gives her is one of anticipatory delight, as if he is moments away from making her crack up with laughter. Then, he holds out his hand to her and walks her smoothly to the hearth.

He draws her into a ballroom dancing pose as another kitsch Christmas song starts up. She rolls her eyes as he dips her back and twirls her around. She has since put shoes on, so she feels a little clumsy dancing in heels. He pulls a poinsettia from Alice’s pristine table display and places the stem in his teeth. He looks so ridiculous, like a dog with an oversized bone, that Betty laughs aloud. They attempt an inelegant, postured tango until she is no longer frowning and starts laughing, giggling helplessly as he spins her around. 

She grabs a poinsettia for herself and tucks it into her hair. It matches the deep red velvet dress she’s wearing. It’s figure hugging and flares out prettily at her hips. She has sheer black stockings and patent black heeled Mary Janes. 

The song changes and the sounds of Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is You” can be heard throughout the Cooper house. Charles is squealing like a little child at the opening bars, striking dramatic poses with every chiming bell sound. Betty is laughing now, her cheeks hurting as Mariah’s voice winds around them. They are spinning, dancing, pulling out all the dumb moves from every high school dance. Charles is mirroring her as they prance around, acting like idiots. Charles does a really good “sprinkler” and “bus driver” and Betty is cackling as she regales him with a few simple moves from her cheerleading days. 

She’s so into it, losing herself in the enjoyment of the music and acting like a fool with her brother, missing _this,_ missing _them,_ and Charles drops down low pretending to do the splits in his slacks. She laughs loudly and performs the perfect splits, sliding on to the rug in front of the over-adorned tree. 

She “presents” her arms like a gymnast and starts suddenly when there is a slow clap behind her. She’s lucky the brandy has taken the edge off and made her carefree, because the whole Jones family is right behind her and Charles, staring at them in amusement from the kitchen. 

She briefly catches Jughead’s eye but moves past him, not letting herself be hooked in to that impossible shade of blue. She avoids looking at the girlfriend and instead waves to the whole group like she had planned to be lying prone on the floor upon their arrival. Alice and Hal are both smiling at them endearingly, also clearly missing their stupid impromptu family dance sessions. 

Betty tucks her legs underneath herself and runs her fingers through her hair, smoothing it out.

JB continues slow clapping, with an impressed look on her face, “Nice one Cooper. Sorry Charles, but Betty has way better moves than you.”

Charles lifts himself up from the floor with grace and holds his hands out to Betty, helping her up. 

Charles puts on a look of mock offence, “Why do you wound me so? We gays must stick together JB.”

JB snorts and sits back on her heels, inclining her head. Betty knows a cue when she sees one and rushes past the whole Jones family (brushing up against Jughead more than she would like to admit) to hug JB. 

“Betty, I fucking love you,” JB yells to the room and spins her around, kissing her affectionately on the cheek. 

Betty kicks her heel up like she’s in a rom com movie and says, “JB, I love you too.”

Betty can feel the heat of Jughead’s gaze as her and JB snicker like idiots. Betty hands JB the remains of her brandy and JB eyes it with glee then produces a hip flask from her baggy, boyfriend jeans and tops up the mug.

“Drink up, buttercup,” JB croons, still wrapped around her, and Betty hugs her tight. She can tell something is not right with JB. She is never this clingy or vocal about feelings in such a sincere fashion. She’s the type of person to say: “Betty, you’re an idiot” and that is supposed to mean: “I love you”. Betty looks up at her, worried, but JB doesn’t meet her eye and just takes a sneaky sip from the flask. 

“Hi, I’m Tessa,” Jughead’s girlfriend introduces herself with a glossy smile. Betty can’t look away anymore; she can’t pretend that the girl doesn’t exist, so she turns to face the woman. 

JB is still holding on to her and Betty’s entire back is now pressed flush against JB’s front. She can feel JB quivering behind her, but in rage or anxiousness, she can’t tell. She wonders if JB is using her as a shield against Tessa and the thought of this woman hurting JB makes her want to scratch the bitch’s eyes out. She smiles saccharinely at Tessa, holding out her hand. “Betty. Charmed.”

Needless to say, she is not charmed. 

Tessa’s handshake is weak, but it doesn’t matter what she does, as Betty has already made up her mind to hate her. She hates that she has a hand curled possessively around Jughead’s waist, brushing against his hipbone. She hates that Jughead is blushing (adorably, but still!) because this other woman is touching him so intimately. She wants to rage and yell, but she steels herself, remembering that she is filled with brandy and says, “Welcome to the Cooper house.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tessa says with a little twist in her lips. “The Jones family love you.”

Did _Jughead_ mention something to her? Her heart constricts at the thought. 

Betty continues to smile sweetly, “Well, I love them too, so the feeling is mutual.”

Tessa’s expression is judgemental as she rakes her eyes over her and JB’s locked forms and says, “Clearly”, as if she has any idea what their relationship is like.

JB nuzzles into her neck as if further hiding herself from Tessa, and Betty sharpens her smile. “Can I get you something to drink? Some mulled wine? Eggnog perhaps?”

“Mercury or a Mickey Finn,” whispers JB softly in her ear. Betty tries not to laugh. Jughead is looking at JB with an expression she doesn’t quite understand. 

Charles joins them now and says, “Hey JB, where’s my snuggle hug? Let Betty and Jughead reconnect. It’s been almost a year.”

JB flips him the bird and growls from behind Betty, but she takes Charles’s proffered hand and lets him draw her out. “Kickass lipstick,” he says pointing to her deep purple colour. 

“You’ve got some on your cheek,” Jughead says to Betty as he moves towards her and pulls her into an embrace. She shivers at the sound of his voice, so deep and delicious and so close, after all this time. Her hand accidentally brushes against his stomach as she turns into him, sliding it under his jacket. It’s too awkward to change positions now, so she goes for it, pulling him closer. She breathes him in like she’s short on oxygen, her whole body on fire feeling his warmth against her. 

It’s over all too soon and he’s pulling back, his fingers absently, cruelly caressing her waist as he releases her. She can feel the blush on her cheeks and she turns away, scrubbing at the lipstick stain on her face. 

At this point, Charles is loudly telling Tessa a story, which has thankfully distracted her from paying too much attention to Betty’s hug with Jughead. 

She looks back at Jughead and sighs heavily as she sees him colour attractively as he looks at Tessa. So it is love then. The pain and disappointment that fills her body is agonising. JB sniffs dramatically and puts an arm around Betty, walking her to the dinner table.

She takes a deep breath and tells herself that she is going to survive this godforsaken Christmas because she is stronger than any man.

~~~

Dinner is a tense affair, made possibly more awkward by Tessa’s unwelcomed presence. Even Gladys looks frazzled, and she is probably the most forgiving of the group. Hal starts cracking jokes at Betty and JB, trying to pull dinner back into the realm of levity and fun, but JB is glaring so darkly that most of his attempts falter at the starting line. 

Jughead sits with his back ramrod straight, looking forward and barely acknowledging the dissonance he has wrought on the families. Faint expressions of pain flicker across his face and Betty fluctuates between wanting to comfort and soothe him, and wanting to rub this disaster of an evening in his gorgeous, handsome face. 

What’s worse is that Tessa keeps singling her out for questioning and slowly the light-hearted, somewhat innocuous questions like “Is your hair really that colour naturally?” morph into an interrogation and Charles is practically cracking his knuckles over the glazed ham. Jughead doesn’t move, he barely even looks at her. 

When Tessa asks her, “How old are you? Like sixteen?”, Betty decides that she has reached her wits end and stands abruptly. 

JB looks furious and hisses at her across the heavily decorated dinner table coming to her defence, like usual, “Regardless of her age, Betty is infinitely more mature and wise than the likes of you.”

Betty is impressed JB didn’t swear. 

Jughead looks so embarrassed, but whether it is at JB, Tessa or herself, she does not know. He looks like he is going to say something, but if he defends Tessa now then Betty will really know that she’s permanently affixed in “annoying younger sister” status for life and she cannot allow that to happen. Even if he does think that, she’d rather give herself the opportunity to dream. 

She says with a too-bright voice, “JB, how about you help me prepare the fondue?”

JB’s face is still morphed into a snarl as she turns to Betty. Betty watches her slowly as the fury and ferocity in her eyes is replaced by pain and guilt. “Of course Betts, anything for you.”

Alice speaks up, “Shall we all head to the lounge room for a digestif? I will clear the plates away.”

“No mom, don’t worry,” Betty says, “JB and I can do it.”

Her mom nods, clearly understanding that she wants to be alone with her JB-safe-haven right now. Alice stands and claps her hands briskly, “Everyone into the lounge, let’s let the college kids handle the clean up.”

Betty smiles gratefully at her mom and Alice gives her a proud nod and two thumbs up. 

“Are you two okay?” Charles asks, voice laden with concern.

“I’ll be fine when the Wicked Bitch of the West is dead,” JB snarls back at him. 

Charles looks sheepish. “If it’s any consolation, I think Jug’s having a really tough time as well. He looks morbidly unhappy.”

Betty feels her heart constrict in her chest and hopes that he’s telling the truth.

“Hardly!” JB fumes, looking furious, “He can’t be that unhappy because I can hear them _fucking_ all night and it’s _disgusting!_ ”

Betty flinches like someone has punched her in the gut and JB looks horrified. She immediately claps her hands over her mouth and Charles holds on to Betty like a lifeline. 

“Fuck, no!” JB screeches and slaps her face repeatedly, “Ah JB you stupid, stupid bitch! All you do is hurt the people you love!”

This, more than anything, prevents Betty from spiralling into despair. She grabs JB’s arms and pulls with all her strength, “JB, quit that! You haven’t hurt me! Stop this now and tell me what on earth has happened to you in the past few days!”

JB looks like a fox caught in a trap; Betty can see the whites of her eyes and the pain on her face. Just like a hurt fox, she knows that JB will lash out if threatened. Betty casts a look at Charles, “Could you please give us a minute?”

Charles nods and backs away slowly. 

“What is up with you?” Betty says softly as if JB is going to shatter. Her breathing is laboured and Betty releases her wrists so she can bolt if she needs to. 

“I think Toni’s going to break up with me…” JB says with a pained voice. 

Betty wants to say something in Toni’s defence, because it’s not like she’s a bad person, it’s just that she’s awful for JB. She always makes JB feel like she isn’t enough and this is JB’s first girlfriend. Toni has dated plenty of women before, so JB is learning about her sexuality and about dating all at once with someone so much more sexually self-assured than she is. 

“Why would she do that JB?” Betty asks softly. 

JB looks positively mortified and says, “I may have done something really bad…”

Betty clamps down on her reactions and asks, “Would you like to tell me?”

JB gulps and looks away, “It’s really embarrassing to admit, so please don’t look at me.” She reaches up and covers Betty’s eyes with her hands and keens in pain, “Ahh I’m despicable, I’m horrible… Toni caught me…” JB mumbles something unintelligible. 

“Caught you what?” Betty asks, panicked. 

“Masturbating, Betty! Fuck,” JB’s voice has a hard edge to it as everything she’s been feeling the past few days floods out of her in a rush, “She caught me masturbating to someone else online.”

“Oh,” Betty says simply, not quite sure what to say. She would understand Toni feeling uncomfortable about it, but it wasn’t like JB had a porn addiction. “And she’s upset because?”

“It’s someone we both know,” JB confesses, still covering Betty’s eyes. 

“Oh…” Betty understands now.

“Plus,” JB says slowly, “She knows how much I interact with this person and so she has accused me, probably not without reason, of emotional cheating.”

Betty fights past JB’s hands to envelop her into a hug. JB is actually sobbing now, “I feel so stupid, because I can’t turn my feelings off, but I love Toni too, you know?”

“Yes, I know you do,” Betty says, even though she wishes that weren’t the case. 

They hug for a long while until Betty starts to feel JB relax underneath her arms. JB, sniffing, pulls back and gives her a watery smile. 

_It’s a Christmas of tears,_ Betty thinks sadly and rubs JB’s arms comfortingly. 

“I’m fine Betty,” JB assures her weakly. 

“Don’t feel like you need to put on a brave face for me, okay?” Betty responds. She would hate for JB to think that she needs to pretend to be cheerful. 

JB nods and wipes her eyes. She looks around and says, “Okay, I guess we should start on this mess. Urgh I hate housework. What should I do?”

Betty laughs, “I’m going to start clearing the table, do you want to get the chocolate sauce out of the fridge?”

JB sighs and starts to get the fondue out of the fridge. Betty begins a rapid-fire clean up of the Christmas dinner. As she’s moving, she asks, lightly, “Has Tessa been upsetting you?”

JB stills at the fondue machine. “She hasn’t said anything to me directly, but I have seen her posts on social media and she’s really homophobic. It isn’t helping.”

Betty stops stacking the dishwasher in shock, “What?”

JB looks confused, “Isn’t that what you meant?”

“No, I thought that she might be wearing on your patience and that probably isn’t helping what you’re going through right now. I didn’t realise you were feeling so persecuted in your own house.”

JB flares angrily, “That bitch is a demon sent to try me. I can’t believe Jughead doesn’t realise how vile she is.”

Betty doesn’t say anything and wipes the table with her head down. 

“I mean, come on, dude!” JB spits angrily, “Charles is his best friend and he sticks his dick – ah sorry – dates someone so prejudiced? I told him not to bring her. I told him that I would give him hell for it and he still did it. Frankly, the fucker deserves everything he’s getting tonight.”

Betty looks at her in shock, “Does he know about the homophobic remarks?”

JB shoots her a look, “Of course not, you know what Jughead is like with social media. He can barely unlock his phone.”

She laughs darkly and Betty knows what she means. It once took Jughead almost six months to follow her back when he finally got Instagram, and they were the single most nerve-wracking months of her life, other than the lead up to this let down of a Christmas.

But this is _Jughead._ There is no one on this earth he cares more about than JB. Betty tells her, with a note of decisiveness, “He wouldn’t abide that, JB, you have to tell him.”

“No, fuck that,” JB snarls, uncovering the large plate of sliced fruit. She pulls out a platter and neatly (viciously) arranges all the cookies on it. “Fucker can burn if he’s too stupid to know.”

“JB!” Betty whines at her, but she stops when JB’s whole body freezes. Jughead and Tessa are coming out of the lounge room and walking towards them. At this point, she would rather endure the excruciating pain of Tessa and Jughead making out on her bed than have Tessa anywhere near JB. 

Betty splays herself on the edge of the kitchen bench, trying to take up as much room as she possibly can and block JB from view. Behind her, JB snorts loudly at her actions. 

Jughead doesn’t even look at her, but rather, over her head as he says, “JB, Tessa would like to speak to you alone.”

Betty feels a flood of anger go through her and she wants to smack Jughead across his stupid beautiful face, then shake him and scream, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Well,” JB says coldly, “I don’t want to speak to Tessa. So you can tell her to go back to Charlottesville.”

Betty is again impressed she’s not swearing.

Jughead’s expression is a mixture of fury and pain as he says, “Don’t be such a little bitch.”

Betty gasps in horror. Jughead’s face is now white. 

“Fine.” JB’s voice is devoid of emotion. “Tessa, let’s you and I go have a little chat outside.”

“JB,” Jughead warns, “Be nice.”

Betty sees JB’s lip curl and her eyes narrow as she storms outside.

This does not bode well.

~~~

Jughead watches his sister and Tessa leave the Cooper’s kitchen and sighs in relief, feeling extremely relaxed now that most of his sources of tension are out the room. 

He finally allows himself to look at Betty, who is in this adorable, plush velvet dress that just hugs all her curves and makes her look mouth watering. No matter how frustrated he is with whatever is going on in his personal life, right now, he feels like nothing else matters as he stares into Betty’s green eyes. 

She’s still arched over the bench and he finds her position oddly distracting, as the curve of her breasts is the first thing he sees when he looks down. He averts his eyes and offers her a hand, helping her right herself. 

Her beautiful mouth is set into a pout and he wants nothing more than to kiss her until she’s breathless. He notices he is still holding her hand and lets her go quickly. 

“That was mean, Juggie,” she points out softly and he feels like she has kicked him in the guts. She hasn’t called him that for years and it feels like she’s actively peeling back this outer layer of douchebag that he’s constructed to protect his inner self. He is raw and exposed under her unimpressed stare. 

“Huh?” he says stupidly. “Oh, JB has been chucking a fit for the past few days.”

Betty looks like she wants to stay something, but then instead chews her lip. He wants to bite it for her. 

He has actively avoided staring at Betty all night, because she’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her. He can’t understand how someone can be as good looking as she is and still be so down to earth. It drives him crazy just thinking about it. He isn’t going to deny that he was extremely jealous by the way that JB could so easily _touch_ Betty, and how much Betty seemed to welcome her touch in return. 

If she weren’t dating Toni, Jughead would bet everything that JB was in love with Betty. It made sense, didn’t it? She was the first person JB came out to, they had been friends forever, JB always teased Betty about the boys that loved her and now Betty was home for the first time in months and Toni and JB had a fight? Yeah, of course she’s in love with Betty, who wouldn’t be?

And that jealousy was partly why he had snapped at JB; something he had never done in his life. He was fucking tool. 

“Ahh shit,” Jughead said, burying his face into his hands. She was right, she was always right. “I’m a fucking moron.”

“No Juggie!” And pretty little Betty Cooper tucks herself underneath his arms and snuggles deep into his neck. Startled, he puts his arms around her and finds himself stroking her long golden hair and marvelling at its softness. He can smell her hair products and the aroma reminds him of the heralding of summer. Her hands trace his back, soothing him. He is possibly even more jealous of JB now; if this is the kind of affection she gets from Betty all the time. 

Betty tilts her head back and he’s brushing the hair away from her face as she stares up into his eyes. He can feel her warm breath across his lips and groans internally, feeling incredibly dirty as his fingers caress the skin near her temples. 

“No, you’re not a moron,” Betty insists, shaking her head and he wants to refute her words, but just finds himself staring helplessly into her eyes, begging for her absolve him. “You’re just in pain and so is JB. You love each other, so you’re lashing out rather than having a proper conversation.”

He chuckles darkly, feeling a subtle glow of warmth in his belly. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

She wrinkles her nose adorably in annoyance. “I have always been smart Jughead,” she says haughtily, “It’s you who hasn’t noticed.”

Oh, he has noticed, he’s noticed everything about her. He just doesn’t want to seem like the obsessive stalker he is.

But he can’t have her think he doesn’t care. “I always notice you.”

He wishes he hadn’t said precisely _that_ when he watches Betty’s expression change from disgruntled to shocked. Her pupils are dilated and for a moment he lets himself believe its because she’s turned on by him. She shifts against him and he’s alarmed to feel his cock twitch in his jeans. He finds himself leaning in closer to her upturned face and wanting desperately to brush his lips against hers. 

_You can’t treat Betty like this!_ His brain yells at him and he stops in his tracks. As much as he and Tessa will never work, he can’t do this to her or Betty. Betty deserves more than a shameful, secret make out session in her darkened kitchen while his girlfriend stands outside. 

He pulls back abruptly and stretches, looking around the kitchen. “Anything I can help with?”

Betty steps back, eyes narrowing as she looks at him. Does she suspect that he’s a jerk? He hopes not. 

“You can wash that casserole dish?” she says sweetly and he knows her well enough to understand that this is Betty Cooper punishing him for something. He just doesn’t quite know what. 

“I was hoping to help out with eating the fondue,” he confesses and she folds her arms and smirks.

“Casserole dish and I’ll allow you one strawberry.”

He swallows his pride and agrees, “As the lady commands.”

He starts washing the casserole dish, which is positively caked in cheese, and she arranges the fondue on the bench.

“So, Jughead, how are you?” He hears her say softly. 

He laughs darkly, “Peachy Betty, just peachy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Can I help with anything?” He can’t believe she wants to come to his aid and suddenly feels really bad for everything he has done since… well, since he left high school. Starting with him chasing after every single blonde he could find that looked even remotely like her and pursuing them poorly, like he wanted to fail. 

“No,” he starts to say and then opts for what he actually wants, “Actually yes. Just… be gentle with me please? I’m just feeling... like shit.”

“Oh!” He hears from behind and suddenly feels Betty Cooper’s arms snake around his waist and under his jacket. She’s just too perfect and so _good._ Her hands are warm and she hugs him so sincerely he wants to cry. She’s stroking his waist and ribs over his t-shirt making soothing sounds. 

“It’s okay Juggie, I will always be here for you.” Her voice is sensual as it curls around him, ensnaring him in all the possibilities. He takes a deep breath and wills himself not to get an erection. 

She stays there for a moment and her hands trail absently down to the waistband of his jeans. His skin is on fire and his is terribly hard in his jeans, wishing desperately that she would touch him more. 

Then, she steps back and he is left cold and bereft. He forces himself to focus on the washing up. “Thank you,” he says thickly, remembering his manners. 

“Anytime,” she whispers and he groans internally, throbbing in his fucking pants, feeling so turned on and so mortified. 

When he finally finishes scrubbing, he places the clean casserole dish on the rack, wipes his hands on the tea towel. He surreptitiously checks his pants, acknowledging he’s still as stiff as a board and no amount of turning around to face Betty is going to change that. He sighs, bites the bullet and turns to face her. 

Her eyes widen in shock and he feels caught, but then realises _she’s_ feeling caught because her hand is positioned over the bowl of chocolate fondue and she has a strawberry in the dark liquid. 

His eyes darken and he is aching all over as he says, “My reward?” 

Her mouth forms an “o” of surprise and she lets out a breathy little gasp. He concedes that he will likely go to his grave fully erect at this point. 

He can’t stop himself as he stalks over to her and gets right in her personal space. She has taken the strawberry out of the chocolate now and it’s leaving a drizzled trail of couverture on the counter. She holds it out to him like a gift. He doesn’t take his eyes of her darkened green ones, he knows he is not kidding himself this time: she _is_ aroused by him and he wants more, wants everything. He slides his fingers up her delicate wrist and watches her blush attractively as he guides the strawberry to his mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact and he knows he is going straight to hell for seducing a teenager, but his head is so full of thoughts of _her_ he’s not thinking straight. 

He takes a bite of the chocolate covered strawberry and his Betty gasps. He moans, around the flavours – sure - but primarily for the sheer intoxicating feeling of seeing her chest flushed with desire _for him._

“Mmm,” he groans, watching her tongue dart out and wet her lips. He needs to kiss her now before he expires.

He and Betty stiffen as a blood-curdling scream slices through their private moment. 

Jughead drops Betty’s hand as if she’s burned him. 

She looks into his eyes in horror, “JB.”

FP, Gladys, Alice, Hal and Charles burst out of the lounge room in alarm. 

“What the hell was that?” FP roars.

They hear the scream again. Everyone flinches.

Jughead goes to say something, but Betty has grabbed his hand and is dragging him to the front of the house. Under any other circumstance Betty taking his hand would set him on fire, but right now, he’s concerned about what he’s going to find when he opens the door. 

Betty is fearless as she pushes open the door and steps into the freezing December weather. 

“JB,” she calls desperately, gripping his hand hard. Her face is worried and she is breathing erratically, looking like she’s going to burst into tears. 

“Over here!” Tessa calls and Betty lets go of his hand to sprint down the driveway. He’s deathly concerned she’s going to slip on the ice and take a nasty fall, so he races off after her, wondering why he can’t seem to catch a teenage girl in heels. 

When he rounds the corner he all but collapses in relief; JB is fine. Tessa is fine. Betty has flung herself into JB’s arms and is checking every little inch of her to make sure she hasn’t been hurt, _fussing_ over her and that jealousy that he had previously suppressed skyrockets. 

His and Betty’s parents are right behind him. 

“What in God’s name is going on here?” FP hollers. 

Tessa, nark that she is, points her finger at JB accusingly and says, “She slashed Jughead’s tyres!”

Betty is holding a snarling JB back and he looks at his car dumbfounded: all four of his tyres are completely flat. 

“Oh,” he says, stupidly, not for the first time that night. 

“What on earth are you thinking girl?” FP tends to become a little irrational when he drinks and this night has not been easy on any of them. 

“Fuck you, bitch!” JB screams at Tessa. Jughead feels horrible; he has no idea what to do. 

FP loses it, “You’re grounded JB. For a whole month you’re not allowed to leave the house! You hear me? You get it?”

JB goes completely still and for a moment, there is silence. She pulls Betty into her arms and shivers against her before launching herself away and down the road into the right. 

Betty is forced back against his car in the backlash of JB’s departure and she cries out again, sprinting off down the road after JB. This time, Jughead runs flat out to catch her around the waist and pull her towards him. She’s struggling against him and holds her, whispering desperately, “You’re going to hurt yourself, stop, let’s get in the car.”

Betty slumps against him and he tucks her under his arm and walks her back to the group of adults staring around the car. They all turn to look at Betty and him, their faces pinched. Tessa is furious and her expression is one of pure jealousy, but he’s too concerned about his sister and Betty to care what she thinks. 

Betty’s clear, calm voice cuts through the night air. “Tessa called JB a “fucking ugly dyke”.”

He feels this all like a stab to the chest; he did this, he brought Tessa into his perfect little family, he disrupted the natural order of all things Jones and Cooper. It’s utterly his fault that this whole Christmas is ruined. 

He catches Tessa’s eye and knows with absolute certainty that Betty is telling the truth. And suddenly JB’s anger with him makes so much sense. 

He’s about to say something deeply cutting when something hits him hard in the chest and drops to the snow at his feet. It’s a set of keys. 

“Go get my girl,” FP says sternly. Jughead nods, crouching to pick the keys up. 

“I’ll go in my car?” Offers Charles and everyone nods. 

Betty turns to him, face close to his, “Take me with you Jug?”

He gulps and nods, not trusting himself to speak.

“What about me?” Tessa screeches. 

Gladys puts a hand on Tessa’s shoulder. “You and I, Tessa, are going to have a little chat inside, hmm?”

And Gladys drags Tessa away, walking back to the house. Alice gives Betty a small smile and repeats FP’s sentiment, “Go bring our girl home, okay?”

He and Betty get in his dad’s car and he’s momentarily struck by how nice it is. Betty shivers next to him. 

“Fuck, Betty, you’re shivering!” He takes his jacket off hastily and puts it around her shoulders. Her teeth are chattering and he wastes no time in starting up the car and directing as much heat at her as possible. 

He’s about to start driving when he turns to Betty, at a loss. “Where should we look for her first?”

She looks at him like he’s lost his mind and says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Veronica’s house.”

He raises an eyebrow and acquiesces, taking off in the direction of the expensive part of the Northside to where Lodge Manor was located. She will get there before him and Betty, because Veronica’s house is across Sweetwater river and the footbridge makes the journey a tenth of the distance. 

They drive in silence with Betty looking out the window, avoiding talking to him. He’s already feeling bad enough and her censure just kills him. The radio is playing “All I Want for Christmas is You” and he hates how true and fucking _sappy_ the lyrics are, hates that it reminds him of her flexible fucking splits in that gorgeous red dress. It reminds him of those cheerleading pictures he’d seen on her Instagram and he hates himself for his present train of thought. 

He almost kissed her in the kitchen. He was this fucking close to having Betty Cooper’s beautiful, perfect lips on his, and he had ruined everything by bringing Tessa. All of this was his fault.

“Juggie,” Betty sighs, looking out the window, “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

He wonders if she’s reading his thoughts and shakes his head, thinking, _That would be a mortifying nightmare._

He doesn’t want to talk about this, so instead he says with a nasty edge to his voice, annoyed at himself and JB and this whole situation, “You know she’s in love with you, right?”

He’s surprised when Betty actually laughs at him. When she turns to look at him fully, her eyes are sparkling. 

“No she’s not,” Betty tries to say firmly, but she’s still laughing at him so the words are muffled. 

“How can you not see it?” He wants to shake some sense into her thick, beautiful head. 

“She’s definitely in love with someone, but it’s not me and it’s not Toni either,” Betty says, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks amused, not devastated by this. So his little theory about Betty having a crush on JB is wrong? “My bet is Veronica, but that’s just a hunch.”

“Veronica?” Jughead asks, incredulous. Like, who in their right mind would choose rich, fashion designer wannabe Veronica when Betty Cooper was standing right next to her? He understands that Veronica is beautiful, but she’s bossy, arrogant, fierce, confident and… oh… that makes sense. JB is a sucker for confident badass women, which also makes sense why she’s fallen for Toni. And the more he thinks about it, the more he realises that Betty also has all of those traits, and that’s why he likes her too. 

But he wanted to set the record straight with Betty. 

“So you’re not in love with her?” Jughead asks. 

Betty laughs so hard at this she’s practically doubled over. He feels his lips twitch into a smile despite feeling very, very stupid. 

“No!” Betty says, gasping between peals of laughter, “I mean, I have the biggest crush on her in existence, but it’s not in a sexual way. JB is my soul sister.”

He feels relieved by this admission. He pulls up in Veronica’s driveway.

“Good,” he says and then catches himself, “I mean, good that you’re such perfect friends.”

“Jughead Jones,” Betty smiles at him and he feels turned on again from hearing his name pass her lips, “I would do anything for you. Do you know that?”

He feels a blush rise to his cheeks and responds, “I would do anything for you Betty Cooper.”

Her smile is luminous. He wants to reach out and touch her face, but she tosses her hair and gets out of the car in one fluid movement. He watches as she bounds up the large staircase to Veronica’s front door. 

“Found her!” 

When he runs up the stairs he finds JB curled on the mat at Veronica’s porch like a housecat waiting to be let in. 

“Jellybean,” he says, using her childhood nickname. She lifts her head, startled. “Want to come inside the warm car?”

JB shakes her head, trembling on the stone porch.

“We can snuggle in the back?” Betty sings to her and JB looks up, disgruntled and nods slightly.

“Where’s Veronica?” Jughead asks as they drag JB back to the car. 

“Argentina with her parents,” Betty says and they all bundle up and sit in the backseat with JB in the middle. 

“She hasn’t answered my calls,” JB says and gives a little sad laugh, “Neither has Toni.”

Betty bristles next to JB and wraps her arms around his sister. “No matter what happens, you know that Veronica and I love you and-,”

“What about me?” Jughead supplies.

“And Jughead too,” Betty sighs, “We all love you and we want you to be happy. Does Toni make you happy?”

“Yes,” JB says petulantly and Betty rolls her eyes. 

Betty whispers to her friend, “Does she treat you well though?”

JB freezes underneath her arms and begins to shake, “Betty, please, don’t make me think that…”

Betty tips her face up so she can look in JB’s eyes, “Nope, I’m not letting you have that one. You’re amazing JB, you’re my best friend in the world and I love you. You deserve to have someone who loves you as fiercely as you love them. You probably should talk to Toni.”

Jughead, listening intently, can’t help but think that Betty is wise and mature beyond her years, and that the speech she gave was alarmingly similar to FP’s earlier. 

JB sighs heavily and says, “I probably should, hey? I mean, I think she’s great and I love the band, but I find it really impossible to date her. I think we need to break up.”

Jughead puts his arms around his sister and he, Betty and JB lie in the backseat of his parents car for a while, in silence, just content to be together. 

~~~

In future, when Jughead looks back and remembers this Christmas, he believes it to be the one in which he finally admitted to himself that he was so far gone for Betty Cooper that no one in the world would ever compare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will have noticed that I have updated the number of Chapters to 19 recently. I believe we will be at 18 + epilogue. Which is great, because more chapters = more smut, right???
> 
> P.S. I’m sorry if Tessa upset anyone. One of my friends said something like this to me when she found out that I was bi (and liked her), it was a bad time, so if you have ever gone through this, my heart goes out to you and I’m here for you. <3
> 
> As always, I love a bit of a chat in the comments, so let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Georgie xxx


	5. The Prodigal Sons Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday and Friday before the bachelor party: Charles, Kevin and Betty reconnect and JB tortures Jughead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, this is an extra special early release and I will post the next one on Wednesday (or thereabouts) and then we will move to weekly posting after that. 
> 
> Three reasons for this (1) You all begging for them to meet in this timeline with your beautiful and detailed comments (that I fucking LOVE) - and that actually will happen in chapter six, and I want you all to love me more hahah (2) The fact that I fucking love chapter six and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts. So please let me know what you think – your detailed introspections give me life! (3) Work sucks this month, so I love love.

“Mom,” Betty says, when she has arrived home from work on Thursday. “What can you tell me about toxicology screening?”

Alice looks up from whatever she is hot gluing and stares at Betty. “For your work, I imagine?”

Betty nods and takes a seat at the table across from her mother, getting out her notebook and pen. “Yes, one of the girls had a tox screen and it came back positive for methamphetamines and amphetamines. What does that mean? How can that happen?”

Alice pauses for a moment and says, “Okay, let me explain. Stop me if I am telling you something you already know. Amphetamines and methamphetamines are both stimulants.”

Betty nods, encouraging Alice to go on. “So, stimulants pretty much do what they say on the packaging: they raise your heart rate, make you feel more energetic and sharpen your awareness. Amphetamines actually have some interesting and useful properties, and as such, have appeared in different drugs over the years, like weight loss pills.”

Alice laughs darkly, “Until, of course, people became addicted to them. Anyway, methamphetamines are pretty much just used recreationally.”

Betty nods, thinking. “Okay,” she says slowly, “So if someone, say a sixteen year old girl for instance, gets a tox screening and it comes back with both amphetamines and methamphetamines, then what could she have taken?”

Alice shrugs and shakes her head, “Anything from Adderall to some sort of crystal meth-like variant. Pretty much any amphetamine based stimulant could do that, darling.”

“Oh,” Betty says, “So it could not be illegal, it could be some girl who has ADHD and shares her pills with her friends as a joke?”

“Yes, pretty much,” Alice says, gluing the pieces of the lantern together. “Does that answer your question?”

But Adderall is a prescription drug and is heavily regulated by the FDA, so this can’t be all that it is to it? Adderall wouldn’t cause something like _seizures,_ would it?

“Yes, thanks mom,” Betty says, going upstairs to drop her stuff in her room. 

She hears her mother’s voice calling out behind her, “Come back down to help me when you’ve cleaned up?”

Charles owes her big time for this whole wedding thing.

Betty sighs as she collapses on to her bed, looking back through the notes of the day. She had visited the remaining two houses of the other cheerleaders and parents who were willing to speak to her about the fainting/seizure incident. 

Those girls had confirmed similar things to Chrystie, although they hadn’t known the details on the tox screens of the other victims. She wonders if all the girls that experience seizures were collectively exposed to something at the same time.

Thinking about it, she absently puts her notebook back in her bag and hears a crumpling paper sound. 

“Ahh!” Betty hates having scrunched papers; she likes everything to have neat clean lines. She pulls out the paper and tries to smooth it down. When she sees it, she frowns. It’s a bright blue piece of paper, and Betty owns no stationary in that colour, so she flips it over in her hands and unfolds it. 

Someone has scrawled a large message in big writing using a permanent marker, “I saw the whole thing. Those cheerleaders were all swapping rec drugs, nothing more.”

She looks at the paper and thinks, _Well, that could be true. The cheerleaders could just be doing recreational drugs._

But Chrystie’s petulant, but insistent, voice rings in her head: _Jenny “would never ever” do that._

So, group exposure to methamphetamines? Betty resolved she would have to break in to Riverdale High to see if she could pull her old list of admin passwords out and gain access to the class lists. 

~~~

**8.24pm Thursday, group chat**

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** OMG CHARLES IS COMING HOME TOMORROW. I am so excited

 **My Amex Black Card:** Really? I couldn’t tell ::eyeroll::

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** You have to be excited that Jug is coming home too, right? 

**My Amex Black Card:** Not as excited as you. Girl, keep it in your pants 

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** :P

 **My Amex Black Card:** Betty, is that you finally admitting you like him?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** :P

 **My Amex Black Card:** @My Queen V pls comfort me. This is killing me. 

~~~

When Charles and Kevin show up on Friday evening, Betty is practically squealing in excitement. She and Alice have spent the past week working themselves into a tizzy over his arrival and last night they were jumping around the living room, singing at the top of their lungs. 

“Chic, Kevin!” Alice cries, flinging the door open so she can embrace both of her boys lovingly. “Welcome back home!”

Betty launches herself into Charles’s open arms, “Charles, I have missed you so, so much!” 

Charles laughs and snuggles into her shoulder. “Aww Betts, likewise.”

She turns on Kevin next, “How is it possible that you get more gorgeous every time we see you?”

Kevin smirks and pulls her into a bear hug, “Oh please don’t stop.”

Charles slaps Betty’s arm in mock indignation, “We are about to be _married_ Betty, he will be my _husband,_ so please show some decorum!”

Kevin laughs and steps back, whispering conspiratorially, “He keeps throwing that word around.”

“What, “decorum”?” Betty jokes. She knows that ever since Kevin proposed, Charles has been absolutely beside himself with excitement. 

Charles rolls his eyes and whines, “Family, please! My heart is racing so fast! Can I just be excited?”

Betty rubs his shoulder, “Of course you can! Now get inside so we can show you both the labour of love mom and I have put into your special day.”

Alice leads Charles inside with her arm around his shoulder and Betty goes to help Kevin with his bags. 

Kevin pulls her aside, “Honestly Betty, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for all your help. I know you and Alice have put in the most work for this wedding so far and I cannot thank you enough.”

“Oh Kevin,” Betty says, so happy that her brother has found someone so wonderful, “No thanks necessary. I love you and Charles both and I want to help make this perfect. You’re family.”

Kevin puts his hand over his heart and says, “No Betty, I mean you’re also going out of your way to help Dylan and Jughead with the bachelor party and I am just so humbled by you. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

Betty puts down the bag she’s holding and hugs him again. 

Charles appears at the door and cries, “Honestly, you two! I step aside for one brief moment.”

Alice materialises at Charles side and calls out to them, “Pink squirrels anyone?”

Betty and Kevin nod in agreement; Betty remembering in the recesses of her mind that it was some sort of cocktail that her parents had learnt in one of their courses.

Betty helps Kevin take his stuff up to Charles’s room and then follows him back downstairs to the five pink squirrels on the dining table, topped with whipped cream and maraschino cherries. Her mom has even stuck a striped red straw in each glass, making it seem like a child’s milkshake. 

“I’m so glad you can finally drink, Betty,” Alice says as they all sit down. Hal looks up from the crossword; apparently just noticing his son has arrived. 

“Me too, mom,” Betty assures her with a grin as Charles and Hal hug each other.

“This is delicious Alice,” Kevin says, sipping on the pink drink.

Alice smiles at him, pleased. “I’ve tweaked the classic recipe a little by using my home made vanilla ice-cream in it.”

“Mmm,” Charles hums in delight, “So good to be home.”

Kevin smirks and says, “Although if I had have known you were going to feed me alcoholic milkshakes I would have worked out a lot more beforehand.”

Charles and Kevin share a look and Charles pipes up innocently, “Oh, you mean like a certain guy in the bridal party?”

“A certain guy on _your_ side of the bridal party,” Kevin reminds him with a wink. 

Charles lips twitch and Betty doesn’t really know what they are talking about, so decides to just keep drinking. 

“Speaking of,” Alice interrupts, clearly cottoning on, “How is our darling Jughead?”

Betty, thankfully, catches herself before she splutters inelegantly into her drink. 

Charles grins, “Oh he’s-,”

Kevin speak-coughs behind his hand, “Obsessing!”

“-Alright,” Charles snorts, talking over Kevin. “Probably more stressed about this wedding than we are to be honest.”

Alice and Hal laugh a little at that. Alice’s eyes shine with mirth when she says, “Poor thing, he’s always had a bit of trouble with this sort of thing.”

Charles and Kevin both bark out a laugh and then hold hands over the table. 

“Honestly,” Charles says, “I love being gay.”

“Oi!” Kevin rebukes playfully, “You’re meant to say you love me, not universally being gay!”

Charles takes both of Kevin’s hands over the table and sighs, “Babe, you are the love of my life. I can’t wait to marry you.”

Betty almost sighs at the soft expression on Kevin’s face. 

“I can’t wait to marry you either,” Kevin whispers back. “But mostly I’m excited about our honeymoon.”

“Oh yes!” Alice claps her hands, “Portugal! Tell us all your plans!”

~~~

Jughead arrives home for the first time in six months and his parents greet him at the door with a huge smile and hug. 

“You’re so tall, boy,” FP says, using his amazing way with words as usual. 

He laughs easily, because, although FP is gruff and a little rough around the edges, he has really mellowed out since Jughead was a teenager and simply tried to be a good father. 

“Hey dad,” he says and embraces his father with a couple of manly back pats. “I’ve been this tall since I was nineteen. Good to see you too though.”

His dad smiles and his mother stands up on her tiptoes to hug him, “But you’re even more handsome every day, Jughead,” she flatters him, and he figures he can’t be mad at that. 

“Come on in, we have some leftovers if you’re still hungry?” His mom says, ushering him inside. He pulls his duffle bag and the garment bag with his suit for the wedding behind him. 

“You know me, I am always hungry,” he reminds them and they both share a smiling look. 

“At least we know that about you,” FP says cryptically and Jughead frowns, unsure. 

Dumping his stuff unceremoniously on a chair, he stretches, luxuriating in no longer being cramped in a plane or sitting on a chair. When he turns to FP he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Well, it would be nice if you called us once in a while,” FP points out and Gladys looks away a little sadly. 

Jughead feels bad, but it’s not like he calls anyone other than Charles. Even then, Charles is the one who typically calls him. He and JB communicate via Instagram and tagging each other in dumb memes, with the occasional video chat thrown in. He mostly got Instagram to appease JB and support her band. 

A small part of him reminds himself that he _also_ was convinced to get Instagram after JB showed him this picture of her and Betty one summer holidays while they were at Sweetwater River. The sun was setting and Betty was laughing, her arms wrapped around JB, both in their bikinis (though JB had long shorts on). There was something in her face that just made the whole photo magical: like her presence simply lit everything up. 

And well, it wasn’t like he didn’t notice her body either. 

But in a roundabout way, that was how Jughead ended up following one hundred and fifty people and setting a calendar date six months in the future before he followed Betty Cooper. 

“Sorry,” he says and he means it. He doesn’t want his parents to think that he doesn’t love them, or doesn’t think about them. “I’m bad at keeping in contact with people.”

His mom looks frustrated with him and says, “We’re not people, we’re your parents.” 

And Jughead is thinking, _Here we go with the guilt trip already,_ when his amazing, wonderful, saviour of a sister practically smashes the door in with her bare feet. 

“Jug,” she smirks at him as she whirlwinds into the room. He thinks he will always regret how his little sister has grown up to be so much cooler than him. He should have become a rock star rather than an FBI agent and curses his terrible past choices. 

Without waiting for her, because JB never makes the first move for emotional connection, he pulls her into an epic bear hug, ignoring her squeaks of surprise.

“Serpent Queen!” He cries in the way that her fans (the snakes) do at her gigs. She laughs and shoves him off her. 

“Dickhead,” she snorts and gives him a massive grin. He fucking loves JB. 

“JB,” his mother interrupts primly, “We were in the middle of talking to Jughead.”

A slow smile dawns on her face and JB crosses her arms before saying curtly, “I think you mean guilting him.”

Has Jughead mentioned that he really loves JB? Well, he does. 

“What is it this time?” JB sighs, rubbing her hand over her eyes as if in exhaustion. “What have you done, son?” She continues in a deep voice, mocking FP. He sees his dad bristle and realises how much he has missed his sister’s impersonations of their family members. She jokes, “You forgot to tell us you have a new girlfriend?”

She looks at his face and then shakes her head, “No, you wouldn’t be that stupid again. Hmmm, you forgot to tell us that you had been promoted?”

She snaps her fingers together and says, “That’s it! You haven’t called us for almost a month! Shame on you!”

He’s so impressed he almost considers offering her a job at FBI, when he then realises that the FBI would not survive his sister. And he kind of likes his job and would prefer it to stay distinctly untouched by JB and whatever hell she wrought. 

“And now you’re only staying for the week Jughead?” JB adds in her Gladys voice. “Don’t you love us? Don’t you want to stay for longer to hang out with your family, the people that _raised_ you even one day extra beyond your best friend’s wedding?”

JB rolls her eyes and stage-whispers to Jughead, “Not that it would matter if you did stay, as these two are running off to Alaska.”

His mother looks much less annoyed now and flicks JB with a tea towel. 

“Hey!” JB complains, chuckling as she ducks out of the flicking towel path of doom. JB is now running around and their parents are just shaking their heads, probably questioning why they had a second child at all. JB turns to him and says, “Watch out for mom, she’s a convicted arsonist!”

Gladys laughs and says, “Never convicted! The Whyte Wyrm dropped charges. They said it gave them street cred.”

FP looks incredibly disconcerted by the whole affair and pushes his glasses to his nose as if he wants to pore over the Sunday crossword, with a long black coffee and ignore them for hours. 

JB manages to dodge passed Gladys’s towel and pulls her into a hug, “That was the best story ever, mom. I can’t believe you never told us.”

Gladys shrugs nonchalantly, “Yeah well, your father was Sheriff for most of your lives and it probably would have negatively affected his career if it got out, so we just kept it in the family, so to speak. You know, just between us and the Coopers.”

“The Coopers are not really family,” Jughead points out, feeling as if they start calling Betty “practically his sister” he will just self destruct.

His dad gives him a raised-eyebrow look and JB smirks. He hates them all, especially JB. Gladys jumps in, reassuringly, “Oh no Jug, I meant because Alice was there that night as well. I couldn’t exactly keep it from her… you know?”

He suddenly regrets his outburst and nods, hoping someone will change the subject soon. JB sighs and leans back on the counter, a sure sign that she is settling in for the long haul on this topic. 

“So, I hear you’re going to La Bonne Nuit tomorrow night, JB?” He tries. 

JB nods, “Yeah, Veronica, Betty and I want to hang out, so we will probably go drink and stay for when the dance floor kicks off. Why?”

“We will be there as well, that’s where the bachelor party is,” Jughead says, surprised she doesn’t know. 

“Oh yeah, Betty mentioned you’ve been riding her for this bachelor party that is your responsibility,” JB’s eyes flash mischievously as she looks at him.

If hypothetically speaking, he were to indulge in a quick fantasy of him “riding” Betty Cooper, (because ordinarily, he would never do such a thing), a detailed project plan and to-do list wouldn’t really feature into it. 

“Hey, she offered! I would have been fine by myself,” he lies smoothly and his family actually boo him like it’s fucking daytime TV. 

“Jughead,” his dad warns him, “You treat that girl well, do you hear me boy?”

FP has always had a soft spot for Betty, because in many ways, she helped him to understand his own daughter. She was around to temper the jagged edges of JB and she brought out the light side in everyone. Betty and FP also connected on a work basis, with her coming around to ask him about investigative work and case procedure. Jughead wishes vainly that she would still ask those questions, because now she would be forced to ask him rather than his dad. Or Charles, dammit, she has Charles now. Why did he convince Charles to join the FBI, again?

“Yes Jughead,” his mother adds, “Please take her out to dinner or something as a thank you.”

Is he going crazy or are his parents actively encouraging him to date precious little Betty Cooper, who is practically their second daughter? He decides it’s probably wishful thinking. 

JB, the shit stirrer, appears to be loving this whole scenario and she’s just sitting on the bench, watching him squirm.

“You could buy her a drink at La Bonne Nuit?” suggests JB, and her look is so _wink, wink, nudge, nudge_ that Jughead rolls his eyes.

“JB!” FP says, sternly, “Courtship should be about-,”

“Courtship?!” Jughead hears someone screech loudly. He is utterly horrified when they all turn to him with smug expressions and he realises he’s the screecher. 

FP gives him an odd look, “Jughead, I said “friendship”.”

JB walks over to FP and puts and hand on his shoulder in commiseration, “Aw don’t worry dad, Jughead is just hearing what he wants to hear.”

Jughead feels like he is being gaslighted by his own family. 

Jughead looks between his dad’s concerned expression, his mom’s pitying one and JB’s amused smirk and wants to scream. 

~~~

After dinner, he and his sister are sitting together as their parents go watch their favourite police show on TV. 

“How’s it going with lady dramas, JB?” Jughead asks casually. 

She gives him a dirty look, “If I tell you, can you answer a question for me honestly?”

He shrugs, “Most likely.”

JB casts him a suspicious glance and launches into it. “Well, Toni and Veronica finally interacted in a way that wasn’t with knives, both literally and metaphorically.”

Jughead can hear the relief in her voice. “Yeah?”

She tucks her hands under her chin. “Yeah,” she breathes, “Like, I could have cried it was so fucking _good_. It’s just, Toni is so amazing and I love her dearly, plus we are Serpents, so you know, I can’t just ditch that… but Veronica is… well, Veronica.”

Jughead remembers the conversation he had with Betty in his dad’s car three Christmases ago as they went to find JB on Veronica’s porch. At the time, he had just been desperate to believe Betty when she had said JB had a crush on Veronica and not her. He didn’t want to feel like the guy who was competing with his sister for a girl and was a douche enough to try and kiss her regardless. So every time JB mentions Veronica’s name with a little smile on her face, he can’t help but feel relieved. 

But the rest of that Christmas had really left a scar on him; he was afraid of hurting JB and also of hurting Betty, so he tried to just keep his distance as much as he could from both of them and treat them with kid-gloves, so to speak. He knows he can’t stop thinking about Betty Cooper, but at least he can protect her from his failures with his detachment. 

JB gives a small laugh, “Yeah, like finally! Maybe things can start to be better now. Also Toni has been dating someone, pretty much since New Years and that seems to be going well. Oh, yeah, you might know her. Remember Cheryl?”

Jughead nodded; Cheryl Blossom was not a person that escaped notice. Plus, her older brother was practically married to Polly Cooper at this point. 

JB looks amused as she says, “Yeah so Cheryl and Toni met at one of our gigs apparently. Who knew that precious mean-girl cheerleader Cheryl Blossom has a hard on for metal ladies, huh?”

“JB!” Jughead groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. 

JB smirks, “I mean, I went to school with her and she knew I was out by the time that I was sixteen; everyone knew. I’m surprised she didn’t…”

“Find you attractive?” Jughead jokes. 

“Gah!” JB cries, “God no! Toni and I are pretty much opposites, physically speaking. She’s like a tiny pixie and well, I’m…”

“Tall and deadly?” Jughead provides. JB grins at him hugely. 

“So it’s weird but cute to see them together, you know? Cheryl has Toni wrapped around her finger and I thought that I would be a bit jealous about how perfect they are together, but I just find myself getting misty eyed when I look at them.”

“Oh my god,” Jughead laments dramatically, “What have you done with my sister, you sap?”

JB flushes, “Plus, I’m in love with someone else, so, it’s nice to see Toni happy.”

Jughead just goes for it this time. “You mean Veronica, right?”

“No, I mean Betty.” JB says sweetly and looks at him, her blue eyes sincere. 

Jughead gasps in horror, feeling his heart plummet. All of his previous thoughts about him not being a terrible brother come flooding back and it’s that Christmas all over again and he’s fucked it up with JB. 

JB continues, heedless to his inner chaos, “You know, she’s perfect right? Remember that she was the first person that I came out to?”

Jughead nods, not trusting himself to speak. He can feel acid flooding his veins and his heart is racing so hard he thinks he might throw up. 

“Remember that Christmas when you guys came to find me at Veronica’s house? Well, that’s the moment that I realised I was in love with Betty.”

Jughead nods again, feeling the world tilt off its axis. 

“Yeah, plus, isn’t she the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life? Like, she is a freaking angel and I want to touch her hair and tell her I love…”

“Okay!” Jughead can’t stand this anymore. He stands up from the kitchen table and says loudly, “I have to go to bed. I can’t hear about…”

JB throws a seat cushion at the back of his head and screeches, “I fucking KNEW IT! You do love her!”

Jughead freezes and tenses every single muscle in his body. He realises too late that he has just fallen prey to one of JB’s classic set-ups. He feels his whole body flush in mortification and hates her for it. Hates her for knowing him so well that she can do something like this and get such a perfect response from him. 

“JB?” Jughead says through gritted teeth. 

He can hear the mirth in JB’s voice when she says, “Yeah?”

He starts walking away. “You suck.”

She hoots with laughter like he just complimented her and says, “Fine, fine, I will tell you what’s going on with Veronica.”

He turns around now, fists still clenched, and takes a seat across from her again. 

JB gives him a smirk and says, “Look, to be honest, I don’t know what’s going on with Veronica. She flirts with me all the time, but I can’t tell if it’s her just being herself, or it’s about me?”

“Does she flirt with Betty?” Jughead asks, by way of comparison. And without realising it, he’s flipped the conversation back to Betty and JB is grinning like a shark. 

JB lets out a short barking laugh, “No! Oh god, that would be a sight to behold. No, though no one really does flirt with Betty, do they?”

Jughead wants to hear this despite his best judgement, “How so?”

“Well, Betty tends to attract guys who admire her from afar, but think she’s too beautiful to approach. Archie Andrews, for example, fits into that category.”

Jughead wonders if JB can hear him grinding his teeth. From the amused expression on her face, he thinks she is enjoying this conversation way too much. 

“Then there’s the second type of guy, like Reggie Mantle, for example, who show up without preamble and try to make out with her, as if she has also been fantasising about him in return, in front of the cold light of her computer.”

Jughead’s mind instantly goes to imagining Betty in the throes of a toe-curling orgasm, arching back on her bed in front of her laptop and then he flat-lines. Then he feels guilty and depraved over how many times he has brought himself to release staring at images on his laptop or phone of sweet Betty Cooper.

“Then there’s the guys like Sweet Pea, who show up and help her out of dangerous situations, crack their knuckles menacingly, hoping she will just fall into their arms with admiration and lust. He did that the other day, you know?”

Jughead grits his teeth even harder as imagines Sweet Pea sweeping Betty off her feet in his giant drummer arms and feels his insides turn to jealous, coiling snakes in his belly. Then, he thinks of snakes, which leads him to think of the Serpents and the gig that they have at the Whyte Wyrm in a couple of weeks. Now he’s imagining Sweet Pea throwing a drumstick to an excited Betty in the crowd with the engraving “There’s a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you’re around” and holy hell he wants to stab his eyes out with said imaginary stick. 

“Then there is the fourth kind of guy who goes out of his way to be helpful to her. Like Dilton Doiley. Betty got so many things from the administration’s office at Riverdale High because Dilton was in love with her.”

JB gives him this direct look and says snidely, “But there is a fifth type of guy. The kind of guy that does all that but still holds her at arms length, like she’s too young or pure or something?”

He feels his hackles rise as he realises she’s talking about him. 

“What do you mean JB?” He asks, using his “interrogator” tone of voice. 

JB rolls her eyes, “You know what I mean, dickhead, I mean how is the whole Jughead-confessing-his-love-to-my-best-friend-saga tracking along?”

Jughead feels his face twitch, _Am I that obvious?_

“I don’t love Betty like that,” Jughead lies to himself and his sister with utmost patience, as if he hasn’t been freaking out about this daily for the past three years or so. “She’s like a sister to me.”

He decides it’s fine when _he_ says Betty is “like his sister” through employing the intoxicating power of cognitive dissonance.

JB raises her eyebrow at him, “No Jug, she’s like a sister to _me._ I’ve never kissed Betty before, you know?”

Jughead doesn’t point out that _he_ has never kissed Betty either. Well, not in real life. 

“Yes you have,” Jughead smirks at her, “During your high school production of the Baz Luhrmann adaptation of Romeo and Juliet when you were seventeen. I remember mom telling me.”

JB snarks back at him, quick as always, “That was under fucking stage directions. Plus,” she smiles up at him now, eyes glinting oddly in the light, “I know mom sent you that photo of us in costume, you know – the one with her in the wings.”

Jughead feels his mouth go dry. He still has that photo tucked safely in his bedside table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insists. 

“Oh I know you do, Jughead, you’re annoyingly smart,” JB hisses and then says with a sly expression on her face, “She made a beautiful Juliet though, right? She was so ethereal in that angel costume…”

Jughead feels his face twitch again and is suddenly worried that increased exposure time to his sister will give him a permanent facial spasm. 

Jughead can’t recall the number of times he’s stared longingly at that particular photo, because he’s looked at it too many times to count. He almost wishes he brought it with him. There was something so… soothing ( _gorgeous, magical, divine_ ) about just seeing the sparkle in Betty’s bright green eyes as she smiled angelically to camera, as if to him. 

He wishes again that he was there to see the full production, he had been invited, but was in that arrogant stage of youth where he finally was earning money and it was really easy for him to pick up, so had declined in pursuit of the much-vaunted one night stand. When his mom had sent him the photo (a printed photo, like it was the late 2000’s) with an inscription on the back in her loopy handwriting, “The girls are sorry you couldn’t make it”, he had felt sucker-punched, utterly guttered and regretted not being there, regretted making the wrong choice for what were a few lacklustre nights, all in all. 

That whole night he had stayed up and traced Betty’s face with his finger, imagining countless scenarios of him rewriting history. His favourite scenario was one in which he showed up in a suit, and met her and JB back stage. Her eyes would light up in amazement as she saw the giant bouquet of roses in his hand and say, “Oh are they for JB?” and he would stare at her and confess, “No, they are for you.” And she would give him _that smile,_ the one that’s so beautiful and illuminates even the darkest corners of his heart. Cue the fucking doves and the happily ever after. 

JB sneers at him slightly when she says, “You know how many guys professed their love to her that Valentine’s Day?”

Jughead doesn’t even want to think about those animals at Riverdale High, pawing all over sweet, gentle Betty. He remembers JB telling him she got a week’s worth of detention for punching Reggie Mantle and he wonders what creepy thing the fucker did to make his sister so furiously protective of Betty. 

“Thirty one,” JB announces proudly and he has no idea why she’s so proud. “I’ve got one of them stabbed in my wall, just in case you’ve never seen it.”

He knows; he’s seen it. He has even memorised the words: _Angel Betty, I love you more than anything. I want to lick the skin between your breasts because it’s so perfect. Be mine. Moose._

He remembers when JB had first showed him and he had almost punched a wall thinking of the guys at her school disrespecting Betty like that. Then he had spent the next three months thinking of his tongue tracing a line along the valley between her breasts and jacking himself raw. He also spent a lot of time cursing Moose and his stupid sister. 

“Why are you telling me this JB?” he sighs. 

“Well Jug, I know jealousy is a powerful motivator, so I thought I would rile you up.” She laughs and says, “It’s for your own good you know? So you can get your head out of your ass and do something about it while you’re here.”

Jughead laughs loudly and insincerely, “Even if that were the case, and hypothetically I did have the tiniest most insignificant crush on Betty Cooper, which I am not saying I do, by the way, so stop giving me that face, but why on earth would I reveal this to her?”

“Because you’ll be perfect together. And as to why now? Why not now, Jug?” JB says insistently. “Riddle me that, huh?”

He finds he can’t really rebut such a cogent and eloquent argument. 

JB clearly notices his hesitation and continues, “You’re both here and your best friend is getting married. Weddings are grossly romantic, you’re going to be walking down the fucking aisle together and she will be pretty much in a white dress. Like, duh! Just don’t be an idiot and if you really don’t want to go for it, then don’t play with her.”

“I don’t want to play with her emotions,” Jughead says truthfully. He wants to play with her though, in a completely different sense. His brain helpfully reminds him of Betty’s boyfriend Tom, but Charles said Betty wasn’t bringing anyone to the wedding so he can’t be _that_ important to her, right? 

“Good, then be a good boy and confess your undying love for her.”

He has reached wits end with this inane conversation, “Urgh, I do not love Betty Cooper!”

“Undying,” JB whispers dramatically, not listening to his protests. 

They sit in silence for a moment and then JB cocks her head to the side and says, “How about this? Mutually assured destruction?”

He shakes his head, trying not to listen to whatever nonsense she is trying to rope him into.

“If make a move on Veronica, then you have to make a move on Betty.”

Knowing it’s Veronica that JB is desperately in love with, then Jughead is assured that this bet is safe. She hasn’t made a move on Veronica for the seven years that they have known each other. 

But the whole thing is stupid and he’s definitely not going to make a bet about it. He will _never_ let Betty know how he feels because the thought of her rejection is worse than her never even knowing and just pining after her forever. Plus he would hate to face Charles about the whole situation. 

He raises both eyebrows and says, “You’re on your own, sis.” 

JB smirks and flips him the bird. “Wrong move, pal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they meet soon my pretties, soon. And Jughead will go crazy lol.
> 
> Also, what you can let me know is if you’d like an off-shoot smut chapter for JB/Veronica or Charles/Kevin as that all heats up.


	6. Bachelor’s Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday night: the bachelor party (part 1). Betty and Jughead meet for the first time in eighteen months.

**7.35pm Saturday, group chat**

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Guys, I don’t know what to wear tonight. I don’t think I have anything clubbing appropriate 

**My Amex Black Card:** You’re just nervous, because you’re going to see Jughead, for the first time in FOREVER and you want him to lock eyes with you across the room and be like “she’s mine, back off you scoundrels”. 

**My Amex Black Card:** You know he does use the word “scoundrel” like he was born in the 50’s. Are you sure you’re into this guy Betty? 

**My Queen V:** Oooh, I can help with clothes

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** That would be amazing V, I seriously need it 

**My Amex Black Card:** Then you want him to stop Charles from talking and just say “Be right back, my destiny awaits” and walk over to you all dramatic-like and literally sweep you off your feet as you swoon into his arms because you love him so much

 **My Queen V:** Come over now? 

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Perfect, I will be right there

 **My Amex Black Card:** Then you two will make out passionately against a wall and he will confess his undying love to you like you’ve always wanted and then you’ll agree you’re perfect and get married and shit ya know?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Leaving now

 **My Queen V:** I’ve got a bottle of Bollinger at the ready 

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Sounds delightful, can’t wait 

**My Amex Black Card:** What about me? Can I come?

 **My Queen V:** Of course

 **My Amex Black Card:** So, my messages are getting through then. I thought you bitches were suffering connection issues. Why are you ignoring me?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** This isn’t the forum for fanfiction 

**My Amex Black Card:** Spoil sport

~~~

“B,” Veronica opens the door and ushers her inside. She immediately offers her a glass of champagne. 

“Oh thank you,” Betty takes the chilled glass and enjoys her first sip. “Damn this stuff is so good. I think you’ve ruined me for all other bubbly forever and ever.”

Veronica laughs, “What good is it to have money if you can’t drink it away?”

Betty clinks her champagne flute to Veronica’s and they both sip. “Are your parents here?”

Veronica’s nose wrinkles. “Ah no. Mom was home last weekend, but then she left – look, I have no idea where she is, but I am sure she has her adoring fans and all the glamour of Hollywood following her around. Dad is, as usual, at work.”

“But it’s a Saturday night!” Betty gasps, all the while knowing that Hiram is a crazy workaholic. She supposes that building a company from the ground up into a “tech unicorn” would make anyone a little obsessive about their work.

Veronica sighs, “Yes, but his company is his first true love. Mom is a distant second and I am a distant third even from mom.”

Betty feels really bad for Veronica; despite having a butler, a chauffeur at her beck and call, all the money a young adult could desire, she just seems so alone. 

“Well, come, let’s find you some clothes before JB comes in an ruins a lovely moment,” Veronica jokes and Betty follows her up the giant staircase to her room. 

Veronica’s closet is like something from a movie: it’s as big as Betty’s whole bedroom, filled to the brim with shoes, clothes, accessories and garment bags filled with super glamorous designer dresses. 

Veronica has already laid a few things out for her on the large ottoman that sits in the centre of the room. “Now Betty, I have chosen some stuff that is classic you, but please feel free to choose whatever you want. You know what they say: mi casa es tu casa.”

Betty takes her time looking over all the garments that Veronica has pulled out, noting how well she seems to have captured her style and her essence. Everything is a bit cute, something she could spin around in, fall over and end up lying in a grassy meadow. 

“What are you wearing?” Betty looks up at Veronica, who is standing by attentively with her champagne glass. 

Veronica smiles and points to a fitted navy blue dress that has a black mesh overlay. “I plan on wearing that with a velvet choker and dark red lipstick.”

“Wow,” Betty breathes, “You’re going to look stunning. Trying to impress anyone?”

Veronica flushes slightly and Betty feels her heart soar; maybe things could work out with JB and her? She doesn’t want to push them, so she gently commiserates, “Me too.”

Veronica looks at her startled, “I never thought you would admit that.”

“Don’t tell JB,” Betty pleads, “Otherwise she might just pick me up and throw me at Jughead and I don’t know if he likes me like that.”

“Hmm,” Veronica intones, “Look, I actually don’t really know, because mostly JB just teases you about it. I mean, at least you’ve got to hope that she’s out there teasing Jughead the same amount.”

“Yeah,” Betty sighs, feeling a little heartened by the thought of JB teasing Jughead about her. Then she groans loudly, “Honestly, if there ever was a chance of him liking me, she’s probably just put him off the whole thing.”

Veronica laughs, “Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a point. JB is very out there.”

“Ah Joneses,” Betty laments, “What are we ever going to do with them?”

“Or without them,” Veronica finishes, and Betty catches her eye. She can see the look in Veronica’s eyes and knows that she is at the very least, infatuated with JB. Betty wants to encourage her, but she’s so concerned that if this is not real for Veronica that JB will be destroyed. 

“How much?” Betty asks softly. 

Veronica looks up at her with dark brown eyes. “How much what?”

“How sure are you that you like JB? How much do you like her?” Betty clarifies and Veronica just stares straight ahead with wide eyes. 

“Um, well,” Veronica stammers uncharacteristically and Betty reaches out and puts a steadying hand on her arm. Betty kicks herself internally for doing that to Veronica; she’s never at a safer space than with her and JB, and now she feels like an idiot who’s destroyed that for her. 

Betty speaks, “I’m so sorry V, that was super direct of me. I just want to make sure that you’re sure.”

Veronica looks at her with a panicked expression. “I think so,” her voice cracks as she says, “I mean I know what I feel for her is real, but I have no idea if she likes me back or is just flirting.”

Betty giggles slightly, “Oh V, this is something you need to chat about with JB, but I just want to point out one thing for you that might help: Toni.”

“You mean her hating me?” Veronica says dumbly and then her whole face brightens, “You mean that was actually jealousy? Oh my god. I have gotten through these past three years hoping that Toni’s hatred of me was based in JB’s affection or admiration or anything to do with her feelings for me.”

Veronica sinks on to the ottoman by Betty’s legs and lets out a happy screech, “Oh my god, yes! This is so good. I finally have one up on her! I am going to make her work for it. I can’t believe that utter bitch threw me to Toni for years because she was nervous!”

Veronica starts laughing and Betty is smiling hugely, enjoying her friend experiencing the beautiful flood of requited feelings. 

Betty looks down at Veronica and says, “Yes, please torture her a little bit. She always makes our lives hell.”

Veronica’s eyes sparkle when she looks up at Betty, “Oh wow, this is so exciting. I am definitely wearing the Louboutin heels tonight.”

Betty shrugs like she knows what that means and then goes back to looking at Veronica’s selection. The doorbell rings and Veronica’s phone starts buzzing at the same time. It’s JB. 

Betty and Veronica share knowing looks.

Veronica answers, a beautiful smile blooming on her face and puts JB on speakerphone, “JB.”

“V, I’m downstairs, so could you please come let me in?”

“Are you going to stop giving Betty a hard time tonight?” Veronica asks and Betty gives her a grin. “She’s feeling a bit worried.”

“Urgh, fine! Those two need a real kick in the pants though.” JB insists.

“Sure, but Betty is upset that you’re singling her out.”

JB snorts, “Betty, come on! You know how much I tease Jughead.”

Knowing that made it possibly even worse for Betty; what on earth could she decipher from that response?

She decides to ask. “But what does he say about it?”

“Ha! Let me in,” JB bargains, “And I’ll tell you what I know.”

Betty’s heart jumps erratically in her chest anew. Does she really want to know?

Veronica giggles, “As if we were going to keep you out. We’re coming down to get you now.”

When they open the door, they see JB shifting awkwardly between one foot and the other, looking antsy. She’s wearing long shorts and a singlet with black Chuck Tailors. Betty, because she is aware of what to look for now, notices that Veronica light up like a beacon upon seeing JB. 

“Oh thank god,” JB says, pushing past them to get inside, “I thought you were going leave me out.”

Betty laughs at this. “How could we possibly leave you out? You would just smash through Veronica’s window to join us.”

JB glares at her, but it just scrunches her nose adorably. 

“Plus,” Veronica says, motioning for them to follow her upstairs, “We love you and we need you to be here. BVJB? How can we be complete without the other?”

JB pushes her playfully, “That is the stupidest group name I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh yeah?” Veronica arches her eyebrow at JB and says, “What’s your idea?”

“Jeronibeth.” JB states and then her eyes alight on the pile of clothes on Veronica’s ottoman. “Oh my heavens Veronica, are we trying to send Betty to a fucking Sunday sermon or get her laid?”

Veronica rounds on her with a ferocity that reminds Betty of high school. “Okay, you. Spill. What do you know about Jughead?”

JB rolls her eyes histrionically, “Urgh. He is the worst.”

“I’m serious JB,” Veronica snaps and points to Betty. “You’re freaking her out.”

JB looks at Betty in concern. “Have I been teasing you too much?”

She looks so concerned that Betty leans over and pats her shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay. I can take it. But I just want to know that I’m not being stupid about this.”

JB sighs heavily and groans, “Okay that’s not an admission, but I will accept it. Look B, I have a strong hunch, but he’s never admitted anything to me.”

Betty felt her heart drop. “Oh.”

“No! No,” JB panics, “No! Oh let me try and explain. Like he freaks out whenever I tease him about you and tries to change the subject?”

“He could just be sick of you talking about me!” Betty’s voice rises to a screech. 

“JB,” Veronica warns, “So help me, give the girl something concrete.”

JB looks miserable. Her eyes flick to Veronica and she bites her lip, as if worried about something unspoken. “I’m sorry Betty, I can’t. He’s really, really good at concealing his feelings. As I said, I can only provide hunches. Like last night I think he got jealous when I was talking about all the guys who liked you in high school.”

Betty folds her arms, “But he could just be getting that “protective older brother” vibe.”

JB snorts, “Yeah, you mean like how he gets with me?”

“Yeah for all the guys that come after you JB,” Betty points out sardonically. JB grins and flips her the bird, then flexes her tattooed arms and kisses both her biceps. 

“Look, I know that he likes you, deep down. But I think that you’re going to have to drag it out of him.”

Betty feels herself screaming internally and then notes that Veronica and JB are staring at her with wide eyes and recognises that she is screaming through her closed lips. Her voice sounds strangled. Veronica sighs heavily and hands her a topped-up glass of champagne. 

JB looks around the room and says, “Okay Betty, you haven’t seen him in eighteen months. How do you want to come across on your first meeting?”

“Like a more adult version of myself?” Betty says firmly and Veronica looks relieved that she’s stopped making weird noises. 

JB laughs, “Veronica do you have any fitted dresses that are pink, white or red?”

Veronica’s eyes light up. “Actually, I do have something that might work here. I bought it for myself, but it’s a little long in the body for me, so I think it might fit Betty.”

She rushes to the corner of the room and pulls out something that seems to shift colour under the light. Veronica looks thrilled. 

JB’s eyes shine as she turns to Betty and orders, “Put that on now.”

Betty nods, taking a long swig of the champagne and says to Veronica, “Hand me that tiny little garment.”

Veronica squeals excitedly.

~~~

It’s nine thirty by the time they arrive at La Bonne Nuit. Veronica makes them find a table as she goes to order for them up at the counter. Veronica likes to pay for everything, and it’s rare that they let her do it, so she’s buzzing as she strides up to the bar. 

Betty does not miss the way that JB’s eyes track her movements. “She looks good tonight, doesn’t she?”

She watches JB visibly swallow and nod, “Yeah she’s such a babe.”

Betty smiles victoriously, but JB doesn’t even notice because she’s staring blatantly at Veronica. Then, JB’s eyes scan the bar and she laughs, “Oh wow, there they all are.”

Betty looks to see where she is pointing and the butterflies in her stomach turn carnivorous and she is being eaten alive. Jughead Jones is sitting _right_ there. She watches him laugh and sighs heavily thinking about how effortlessly beautiful he is. She sees his gorgeous black hair curl around his pale face and her heart hurts just looking at him. He’s even wearing suspenders! 

JB snaps her fingers in front of Betty’s face, “Be cool Betts. Remember; act like you’ve got all the confidence in the world. Act like you know he’s obsessing about you and just go make him uncomfortable.”

Betty laughs; this was the line of advice of which Veronica and JB had been convincing her. “Go live like you’re hot and confident and everyone in the whole world worships you.” JB had mentioned that she used to do a similar thing before she stepped on stage for her gigs. Now, despite being the youngest member of the band, she gets called Serpent Queen, so Betty supposes that she has some good points. 

Veronica comes back with a beer, a cosmopolitan and an espresso martini. She hands Betty the cosmo. Veronica catches JB’s eye and looks to where she’s indicating. Veronica’s lips curve into a devious smile. 

“Betty, you’re getting the next round okay?”

~~~

The bachelor party had arrived at La Bonne Nuit during the time of the evening in which the clientele were still classy and mostly sober. Thankfully the delicious and fatty French food had lined their stomachs so their copious amounts of wine had left them with a slight buzz. 

Presently, Jughead is experiencing a weird roiling feeling in his stomach as he surveys the other members of the group. He doesn’t know why he’s so filled with angst, so he tries to drown the feeling in the whiskey sour in front of him. 

His eyes fall on Dylan. Stupidly handsome, could be a model or someone from the set of Grey’s Anatomy come to life: Dr Dylan Perfect Face. 

Jughead has known Dylan for as long as he has Kevin; they all met during one of his and Charles’s cases. Dylan is handsome, intelligent and a bit of a womanizer. He’s the kind of guy that exudes confidence and can just snap his fingers to get a woman to be interested. Jughead is most worried about this because if he is interested in Betty, then there is no way that she could resist his winning charms.

 _Ah, so you admit that it’s about Betty._ His brain says, snidely. 

He snarls internally and looks back at the group. The other Bureau guys, Tim and Bryan are fun, but Jughead thinks that they pose no threat looks-wise. Unlike Dylan. Unless Betty is into wholesome, sweet looking guys? He thinks immediately of her (maybe? Maybe not?) boyfriend Tom and gasps, horrified. That could be her _type!_ All this time he has been worried about Dylan, but he could be the most obvious, but least likely contender. 

Then there was Harper, who was super buff and a little bit dim. Surely not a problem? But then, there was that whole thing that JB told him about Sweet Pea hitting on Betty… Jughead just thinks, at this point, it’s safer to assume that every single guy is a predator and a threat. 

He has kept a vigilant look out for Betty since he arrived, but between trying to be a decent best man, getting drunk and being in a state of constant alarm, he knows things are slipping through the cracks. 

JB texted him half an hour ago to tell him that they would soon be on their way. He keeps watch at the entrance, hoping to spot her before the others. 

“Oh, wow, look at the blonde up at the bar,” Tim whistles between his teeth and says, “Look at her legs in that little sparkly outfit, I mean, can you believe how delicious she looks?”

Jughead, upon hearing the words “blonde”, “legs” and “delicious” across the table in that precise combination is suddenly on dramatically high ultra alert. DEFCON fucking 1. He turns to where Tim is looking and sees a blonde woman standing by the bar in a tiny, low backed playsuit that shows an incredible amount of her smooth, tanned legs. The strappy high heels she is wearing accentuate her slender ankles and calves. 

“Jesus,” Bryan gasps placing his hand on his heart, “She’s utterly gorgeous. I haven’t even seen her face, but I think I’m already in love.”

She sways lightly to the music, and Jughead can see that her clothing, tiny though it is, catches the light in odd ways and looks almost iridescent as pinks, blues and silvers danced across her as she moves. 

Even Kevin’s friends are no better than the Bureau scum when it came to leggy blondes. 

“Ohh yeah, move like that for me, doll,” Dylan moans piteously and Jughead feels so unbelievably tense, like he just wants to run up to the woman and confirm that it’s not Betty, it can’t be Betty who looks that…

She runs a hand through the long blonde hair that curls down her back and musses it up slightly, and he’s hoping against hope that the actual Betty Cooper will show up with a ponytail, denim cut-offs with grease stains and t-shirt and he can leave these animals to whoever that model is. 

He can hear his heart pounding erratically in his chest and he thinks that if she doesn’t turn around, he will have a heart attack. Or maybe, if it is Betty, then he will have a heart attack anyway. 

Charles and Kevin briefly stop making out to look over at whom everyone is talking about, with only half interest. 

“Touch yourself baby,” Harper says, and Jughead decides that this is the singular reason that everyone hates bachelor parties.

Charles takes a sip of his martini and looks in the direction of the bar and fucking chokes. He’s suddenly wheezing and spluttering and the guys around the booth freak out like they’re sending him to an early grave with their hetero-normative chauvinistic bullshit when Charles regains his faculties momentarily to sputter at them, “Guys, have some respect.”

He dissolves into another coughing fit and the guys around the table look to Jughead and Kevin for help. Kevin meets his eyes with eyebrows raised as if saying: “do you want to take this one or shall I?” But Jughead has no idea what the fuck he’s meant to be explaining, because his brain is just screaming at him, _no, no, no, no way, it’s not possible, no, no, it can’t be!_

Kevin looks a little amused as he elaborates, “Guys, that’s Charles’s little sister, Betty.” He adds in a warning tone, “She’s twenty one.”

The men around the booth look chagrined and ashen faced as they nod, while Charles breathes his last breath. 

“You alright there babe?” Kevin asks him sweetly, “Let me know when you need mouth to mouth again. I am a doctor, you know.”

Charles shakes his head, takes another sip of martini and calms himself. He then waves his hand, and calls out over the venue, “Betty!”

The statuesque blonde with the amazing (to die for) legs at the bar turns around and he sees her face and he almost expires on the spot. 

_When did my – uh not my – Betty, just Betty, grow up to look like this?_

What started out as unrequited affection and distant admiration suddenly hits him like an avalanche of pure fucking need and he is being burnt alive. 

Her face splits into a huge grin as she sees Charles. She motions to someone behind her as she begins to walk over. He can’t take his eyes off her: the way her legs strut towards him, the manner in which she bites her glossy pink lips and the slight flutter of her dark eyelashes. He tries to force himself not to look at her plunging neckline and the irresistible curve of her breasts and he knows he’s hideously and shamefully hard over _Charles’s sister_ but he can’t help it anymore. His brain is AWOL. 

When she approaches the table, he is tense and his hands are clenched into fists underneath the table. She’s so close and it’s like looking directly into the sun; his brain is being scorched out from the inside. 

“Charles, Kevin,” she starts with such impossible sweetness and he watches her glossy lips move, feeling perverted and gross but still doing it. He feels a twinge of jealousy that she didn’t immediately name him, almost like staking her claim. She fluffs her hair and says, “How was Le Coq au Vin?”

If he weren’t already throbbingly hard in his slacks, he would have snapped to fucking attention finally seeing her lips form the word “cock”. Next step: see her lips wrapped around… _Down boy, for fuck’s sake!_

He sees some of the guys shift uncomfortably around the table and wonders if they are experiencing the same thing. He glares at them all for good measure. Those fucking animals. 

“So good Betty, great choice,” Kevin says and Jughead is over the fucking moon that Kevin is gay because they need at least two people with their wits about them to get through this conversation unscathed. 

She smiles beautifully and _looks directly at him,_ saying, “Oh it was all Jughead. I was just following directions from a superior officer.”

She jokes but _holysinfulfuck that fantasy alone_ will kill him. 

He thinks he hears someone around the table choke and he knows that he is still holding his breath. 

“Well,” he grinds out, voice rough. “You did put in all the hard work.”

Her eyes widen slightly and he thinks he can see her pupils dilate. He’s reminded of the time that he nearly seduced her when she was a _teenager_ in her kitchen at Christmas and feels so ashamed. 

He needs to get the fuck out of here. 

He’s moments away from asking everyone to move so he can go to the bathroom or chain smoke a packet of cigarettes or throw himself repeatedly (and head-first) into a brick wall when he sees a hand appear on Betty’s shoulder and his fucking sister and Veronica materialise at her side. He knows if he leaves now his sister will never let him live it down, especially after their conversation yesterday. 

Somewhere in the corner of Jughead’s mind, he finds himself pleased that JB’s arm is around Veronica and thinks: _Good for her._ JB catches his eye and smirks impossibly, then slings her arm around Betty, who gives her a look of pure love. Jughead finds he can’t breathe again for wanting her to look at him like that. 

“So, are you ladies here alone or are you with anyone?” Tim says and Jughead wants to slam his own face on the fucking table at this nightmare unfolding. 

JB’s smile sharpens and she holds Veronica and Betty possessively against her. Jughead can tell it’s going to be a pissing contest and no one can ever best JB. He knows this from years of personal experience. 

“I’m here,” she says simply and Charles is grinning like a loon at her words, “and they’re with me.”

“Oh you’re…?” Dylan starts offhandedly.

JB gives them a suggestive grin and flexes her wiry arms, “Yeah matey, I’m gay.” She takes her hand from Betty’s shoulder and leans her fist over to Charles saying, “Pound it for pride!”

Charles laughs loudly as she smashes her fist against his and Kevin’s. Jughead will always be grateful for Charles helping JB out when she was going through her own sexual crisis. 

“You ladies look gorgeous,” Kevin says smoothly and Jughead is glad that Kevin said that so that he doesn’t have to. “Betty, I love that outfit.” 

Jughead takes that gracious sentiment from moments before and decides Kevin is wicked, evil, and demonic as all the guys around the table are again staring at Betty’s cleavage. 

But Kevin isn’t done. He turns to Jughead and asks with an innocent expression, “Don’t you think she looks incredible, Jughead?”

Jughead has never felt so much like he’s willing himself to melt into the floor, evaporate into thin air or for some kind of natural disaster to hit and take the awful pressure off him. 

His whole body is tensed as everyone then looks at him expectantly. 

_CHILL OUT!_ He yells internally, _You’ve stared death literally in the face and didn’t flinch, but Betty Cooper looks at you with her lovely face and gorgeous body and… fuck…_

“Yes,” he forces out through gritted teeth. JB is grinning and shaking her head. Betty is looking at him with a concerned expression, like she’s worried that he’s ill. 

_Well, I am sick, Betty. You’re the only one who can make me feel better._

He is also sick of his lewd tipsy thoughts. 

“Thank you,” she says in that little breathy voice of hers and he groans internally. All the guys around the table stare at her again and he knows what they are imagining, because he’s thinking of the same thing: What do Betty Cooper’s sex noises sound like? But he can’t have these animals just staring at Betty like that, thinking about her breathy little moans while she’s in the throes of passion and _just be okay with this!_ He needs to deflect, now. 

“Uh, gentlemen,” Jughead growls warningly, “She has a boyfriend.”

Betty looks at him oddly and refutes his sentence immediately, “No I don’t.”

He stares at her through narrowed eyes, not letting the words settle into him, trying not to look at JB’s triumphant expression. 

Betty smiles serenely and says, “Oh, when we were on the phone last Sunday.” Her tone seems to suggest that they are frequent Sunday morning phone friends and the guys all turn to him with raised eyebrows. She bites her lip and says, “And you were begging me to help you?” 

He gulps audibly and tries to avoid both JB and Charles’s respective gazes. At this point, his libido just fucks off and leaves him to his own devices.

“Yes,” he says, his voice sounding like a purr and he’s fucking embarrassed that he’s used his _bedroom_ voice on innocent little Betty Cooper ( _Charles’s sister!_ he reminds himself in vain). Her mouth parts in shock and he can’t think anymore, he’s just drunk on her fucking presence. 

She continues, “I was going to tell Charles that Tom and I broke up before Spring Break.”

_She’s single…_

“Good for you,” he hears himself say in falsely bright voice. JB’s expression is incredulous, like she’s torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to hit him. He hopes she chooses the latter and just knocks him out cold. 

Betty looks a little upset and her bottom lip juts out into a pout and all he can think about is biting that lip until she gasps. He really needs to get out of here. 

“Do you ladies want to join us?” Charles (the unbelievable scoundrel) asks, “Don’t feel like you need to, we don’t want to spoil your night!”

Betty’s face is radiant as she says, “Sure, we can for a little bit.”

When everyone is getting up and shuffling around to make room for the three newcomers, Jughead takes his leave and politely makes a (desperate) break for the washroom. 

He’s running into a stall by the time he gets there and is tearing off his suspenders, undoing his fly and pulling out his cock. 

He moans as he roughly grasps the length and he braces himself with his left arm against the wall. Jughead strokes himself vigorously, his mind a jumble of profanities and images of Betty Cooper’s smooth long legs and sweet mouth. 

He’s recklessly pumping his hand over his viciously hard cock, knowing that he is moments away from fucking losing it. This time, he doesn’t need to close his eyes to imagine her – the image of her is seared into his brain and he pictures himself tearing off that stupid sparkly outfit, picking her up into his arms and thrusting deep inside her. He tortures himself dreaming of her breathy sighs and how they would increase in pitch and intensity as he drives into her. He imagines her arching in his arms, whispering his name and telling him she’s always loved him.

He thrusts into his hand vigorously and comes into the toilet bowl with a roar. 

Someone in an adjacent stall yells encouragingly. 

When he takes a hot minute to take stock of the situation he realises that he’s crossed a line that he will never be able to come back from. Sure, it’s one thing to fantasise about a gorgeous woman who lived hundreds of miles away from you, but it was another thing to jack off in the bathroom stall when she was literally outside. He feels filthy and depraved. 

He groans dramatically into his elbow and hates that the one person he would normally talk to about this, _Charles_ , is utterly unavailable for comment. Not only would that be just the most heinous thing to discuss with his best friend, but also he is fairly certain Charles would castrate him and he likes his bits where they are.

He wipes himself off and flushes the toilet, slapping himself across the face for good measure before he zips up and walks out of the stall. He stares himself in the eye in the mirror and gives himself a stern talking to: _You will quit this obsession, you will pull your sorry self together, you will go back out there and be utterly charming so Betty forgets how weirdly you just acted, you will buy her a drink, because that is the least you can do and finally, you will treat her like a mildly interesting news article. About the stock market. Yeah. Nice._

Washing his hands and towelling off, he feels like new man. As he steps from the bright bathroom lights to the sensual interior of the speakeasy, his stomach drops.

Betty Cooper is standing right there, looking straight at him.

~~~

When Jughead walks out of the washroom, Betty pushes herself off the wall and goes up to talk to him. He looks so adorable when he’s upset, but she can’t help but think she’s done something wrong by the way he’s staring at her. 

“Jughead,” she says a bit breathlessly, because he’s in front of her and they are alone for the first time in ages. Plus it’s dark and the music is wrapping around her sensuously. 

He stops three feet away from her, just staring at her with dark eyes. She can’t read his expression, so she worries her lip, chewing on it in frustration. Jughead’s lips are parted as he looks at her mouth and he looks terrified as he meets her gaze; his blue eyes blown wide. 

“Betty,” he says in that sinfully smooth voice of his and she almost moans. She has forgotten how incredibly intoxicating it is to be in his presence and she can feel her whole body alight with a glittery sensation. 

“Can I have a hello hug?” She asks, opening her arms slightly.

She watches a pathological number of expressions flit across his face before he settles into the crooked Jones smile she loves so much. 

“Always,” he croons at her and takes a step into her personal space. She can hear her heart beat thundering over the music and is sure that he can hear it too. His hands ghost her waist and slip around to lightly caress her back; she hears herself whimper pathetically as his hands brush her bare skin. 

It feels deliciously good to have him this close, and, well, more sober than last time. She wonders if he is still going to keep pretending that never happened. 

He flexes his fingers on her lower back, pulling her closer to him and she is drunk on feeling wanted by him, sliding her legs between his and gripping hard on his suspenders. Jughead’s fingers caress the bare skin at the edge of her playsuit at her waist and she actually shudders against him, feeling a bolt of liquid heat shoot through her. 

“Oh,” she hears herself say, hating how desperate and breathy her voice is, like she has no control over her intense attraction to him. Which she doesn’t, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

She presses herself into him, but Jughead tilts his hips back and then curls away from her embrace, hands sliding torturously slowly across her back. His jaw is locked and he looks so tense that Betty has no idea what to do. 

“Are you okay Juggie?” she asks concerned. 

Jughead’s eyes widened imperceptibly and he licks his lips slightly. She wants to be back in his arms, dying to pretend that he wants her back. 

“Yeah,” he says roughly, shaking slightly. 

“Can I do anything to help you?” She pleads at him. _Like kiss you senseless or trace my tongue along your abs?_

“I don’t think so Betty,” he admits and flushes. He does look a little ill, so she leans in hand presses her hand to his head, checking for a fever. 

He watches her through dark eyes, trying to shift away from her as if she’s contagious. 

“I mean you do feel hot,” she says as her fingers brush his forehead. 

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, pausing in his fidgeting, “That’s because your hands are always so cold.”

“Or maybe it’s because you’re always hot,” she argues and then blushes when she realises what she has just admitted. 

“You think I’m hot?” he teases her, catching her chin in his hands. She tries to turn away from his gaze. 

She takes a deep breath and looks into his fathomless blue eyes and asks boldly, “Do you think I’m hot?”

He stares at her momentarily with his mouth agape before he rolls his eyes and steps back from her completely. His hands drop from her waist and she mourns the loss of the warmth.

 _Idiot!_ she thinks to herself, but is unsure if she is admonishing herself or him at this point. 

Jughead looks ashamed and rubs his hand on the back of his neck, with that same nervous gesture he’s always had and says, “Look Betty, I know I owe you ice cream, but can I buy you a drink at least?”

Her heart leaps in her chest and she nods, “Oh sure. Shall we go to the bar now?”

“Lead the way.” He gestures his arm out in the direction of the bar. His face is impassive. 

Betty sighs and curses JB for her theories, then, she thinks, _If not now, then when? If I can’t seduce Jughead at a bachelor party, then when will I ever be able to?_

Bold with alcohol, she resolves to give it her everything: Jughead Jones is not going to know what hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you murder me in the comments (hahah EEP!) this is a casual reminder that this story is a slow burn ;)  
> But when the actual damn breaks, boy it breaks. That’s why we have 19 chapters and not 15 alright, alright???  
> Betty was wearing: Sparkle Sparkle Teal Sequin Playsuit by Black Milk, but with a lower back, just in case you want to picture what I was thinking about :P


	7. Bachelor’s Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bachelor party (part 2).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments about me trying to kill you honestly just fuel me, so thank you all :P  
> Your comments from last week were THE BEST EVER <3 <3 <3

Betty is trying to torture him to insanity. 

That’s the only explanation that makes any sense to Jughead for how she’s acting. She’s curved back over the bar and the neckline of her tiny outfit should be illegal – frankly the _outfit_ belongs in some kind of classy call girl’s wardrobe, not on his (not his!) – Betty’s delicious body. 

His eyes keep drifting to her cleavage and he wants to slap himself because he cannot ever remember acting like this around her. But then, he hasn’t seen her for a summer since she was a teenager so, he supposes, he has never seen this much of Betty’s naked skin in real life and all the emotions he’s ever suppressed about her come flooding back in force. 

All those years when he was blindly chasing after every single blonde he ever laid his eyes on; how could he begin to think they compared to this exquisite creature that has been right in front of him his whole fucking life? The moment he thinks that, he’s flooded by a feeling of shame, reminding himself (for the trillionth time) that she’s _Charles’s sister_ and JB’s best friend and she has practically grown up with him. It’s so wrong on so many levels. 

But then, he catches her eye and she smiles at him radiantly, running her finger up his suspender lightly, teasingly.

He groans softly and prays she can’t hear his distress over the music. 

Thankfully, the bartender arrives, but somehow ruins it all by giving him an impressed nod. 

_Yeah mate, I know she’s a fucking super model and I’m just some guy. No need to remind me how creepy I look standing next to her._

“How can I help you?” he asks and Betty lets go of him to lean across the bar, shifting completely in front of Jughead. Her bare back is arched in front of him and his clothed erection is an inch from her glittery ass; his hands are so close to her hips his fingers are almost brushing her. Jughead’s brain deserts him for a moment as Betty flicks her long blonde hair and looks at him directly with those stunning green eyes of hers and _smirks._ The little vixen. 

“Do you want anything?” She asks and he can’t get over how unbelievably _sexy_ Betty Cooper is. Like, he’s always known that she is gorgeous, wonderful, so incredibly kind and intelligent, and he’s been sexually attracted to her for longer than he’d like to admit. But this, seeing her like this, doing _whatever_ she is doing, is driving him out of his fucking mind. 

_You, I want you, Betty Cooper._

He tears his gaze from her and looks at the bartender who is smirking openly at him now (because he must look like a drooling mess). “Give me another whiskey sour.”

He hands over his credit card and Betty rights herself, bouncing on her toes in those stupid strappy shoes of hers. He forces his eyes from her chest to her face. 

She curls into him and whispers in his ear, her warm breath caressing his neck and if he weren’t already hard, he would be _upright and raring to go_ at how utterly sensual this is. 

This whole time in all of his mental trainings leading up to this moment, he had been preparing himself to face sweet, innocent Betty Cooper, not whoever this was in front of him! He didn’t expect to have the upper hand, because he feels like he _never_ does anyway, and where she’s concerned he’s always a fucking nervous wreck, but now he is completely out his depth.

“Thank you,” she whispers and there’s a hint of sugar in her tone, and he’s desperate for wanting to softly nibble at her lips until she’s begging for him. 

He forces out a laugh, “No problem.”

She doesn’t move, still inches from him. “Can I cash in some of the goodwill you have towards me for a dance?”

He swallows hard, imagining his hands guiding her to sway against him in a dance resembling the sensual way he wants to make love to her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea Betty,” he says with more gruffness than he intends. 

She looks so disappointed that he adds, “I’m just a bad dancer and I would step on your toes.”

He’s lying, he’s not that bad of a dancer, but he’s nowhere as good as her or Charles. He’s seen her cheerleading; he knows that she can move beautifully. 

“Oh come on Juggie,” she pouts adorably and he can’t stand how much he wants to hear her say that to him without his clothes. Or her clothes. The whole thing is fucked and he needs to take a cold shower before he presses her up against this bar and ravishes sweet little River Vixen Cooper. 

“Your drinks.” The bartender (thankfully) intervenes and Jughead launches himself towards his whiskey sour like it’s a fucking life raft. 

He sees Betty with a fucking cosmo and again he feels so dirty and old. Yeah sure, she’s legal (in both senses), but even that sounds predatory in his head, like he’s been swimming around her for years and suddenly the cage around her has been lifted. He doesn’t even want to think about what Charles is going to say about him undressing his baby sister with his eyes, let alone all the other things he’d like to do to her. 

But warring with those feelings of self-loathing and disgust is whatever emotion is radiating from Betty towards him right now. She is staring at him with her gorgeous green eyes wide and luminous; her whole body turned towards him like he’s the only person in the world and he feels alarmed, turned on and so unbelievably hot all over. 

“So how are you going Jug?” She asks and she is pressed up against his side again as the music is so loud. Without thinking his hands are on her hips and he is drawing her closer to him, wanting to envelop himself in her scent and her curves. 

He takes a long sip of the whiskey sour. “I’m going well Betts, it’s nice to be home.”

_It’s amazing to see you._

He can see her lips curve into a grin around the rim of her cosmo and he wants to capture those lips into a searing kiss. “It is, isn’t it? I mean, I love being at college, but I do miss my family a lot, and, well, you Joneses.”

“I know JB misses you too,” Jughead allows. 

She rolls her eyes and bites her pink lip, “I miss you too, Jughead. It’s been a really long time since I’ve seen you and a lot has changed since then.” 

_Like what? What has changed?_ He wants to ask, mouth dry. 

He forces the question out, “What has changed?”

Her eyes are dark when they meet his. He can’t – won’t mistake that look for lust just because he’s aroused again. “Well,” she breathes in his ear, “I’m twenty-one.”

He feels as if he is being delivered a series of fucking electric shocks with a cattle prod; _is she trying to seduce him?_

She takes another sip of her drink and he wants to slap himself. She’s tiny and she’s drinking cocktails. 

_Of course she seems flirty, Jughead!_ He yells to himself mentally, _She is drunk and your judgment is impaired because you desperately want her to be crawling all over you right now._

He’s fucking deluded. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” He says, trying to make his voice as dry as his whole throat is right now. When she looks at him surprised, he points to the cocktail in her hand. 

Did he imagine a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, or was that wishful thinking? So he adds, against his best judgement, “Also, I sent you a message for your birthday, didn’t I?”

She arches back and he’s definitely not thinking about how her hips are pushing into his thighs, he’s not. She raises both eyebrows and says indignantly, “I don’t think the letters “HBD” count as a message. Maybe a receipt of purchase.”

He snorts a laugh; he admits he’s forgotten how funny she is when she gets on her high horse. He wonders what else he will rediscover about Betty Cooper this week and almost salivates at the thought. 

She looks amused, and then laments in jest, “And then you ask me for my help for tonight and won’t even give me a little dance?”

“Are you emotionally blackmailing me?” He asks, charmed. He already knows that he will dance with her at some point tonight, but now he feels like he’s enjoying whatever _this_ little dance is between them and doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction. He wants Betty Cooper begging for him. 

She quirks her lips into a grin, “Is it working?”

He growls and she giggles. He hates how intoxicating this whole feeling is; her being close, delicious and smelling so sinfully good. “Somewhat,” he admits begrudgingly. “Do you want me to dance with you that badly?”

She mumbles something under her breath that he would like to think was: “Among other things”, but he thinks he is imagining it. 

He stares at her as she sighs, “I do, but I don’t want to force you. If you really don’t want to, I’ll accept the ice cream as payment and move on.”

He opens his mouth to say something when the rest of the bachelor party appears at his shoulder. He is loath to release his grip on Betty, so he just holds on to her possessively. 

“Oh hi guys!” She says in her cheerful Betty voice and he wonders momentarily what happened to the woman that was teasing him literally moments ago. “Where are Veronica and JB?”

“Dancing,” Charles says at his side. He wants to let go of Betty, but feels as if he will be more culpable if he does so now. Plus, at the moment, she’s practically hanging off him, so he reasons with himself that it would be very rude and distinctly unchivalrous. 

“Oh Charles,” Betty says at his side, “Do you want to dance with me?”

“Without a doubt!” Charles grins and says, “I want to put in a request so we can get our Cooper moves out!”

Betty taps her finger to her nose, knowingly. “I got you, I’ll ask for a Cooper special.”

Jughead chuckles; he’s seen them dance together many a times, and it is always the most entertaining thing in the room. 

Charles gives him a look. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this Jones. You’re my best man, so you’re kind of obligated.”

“Plus,” Betty adds with a wicked grin, “You’re lucky he hasn’t made you wear a sash or tiara or something.”

Charles sighs heavily, “I wanted that, but Kevin did specifically request a “classy event”.”

Jughead is feeling very grateful towards Kevin right now. 

“Betty,” Dylan says, having just procured a beer, “Did you want to dance with me?”

Jughead watches as Betty’s face lights up in excitement. “Oh sure Dylan!”

He feels his heart sink and releases his grip on her. She gives him an odd look and says, “Jug, want to join us?”

He can’t help the skyrocketing of his pulse and flexes his fingers against her. She gasps a little and he can see her eyes darken. He feels himself go hot all over at the thought of it being because of him. 

“In a moment,” he promises. “I want to finish my drink first.”

Betty nods, her big green eyes on his and steps back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

She turns and walks with Dylan over to the dance floor. Luckily JB and Veronica join them immediately and he lets out a sigh of relief. 

Kevin catches his eye and shakes his head as if in disapproval. He feels immensely judged. 

Jughead goes back to the booth alone and watches the rest of the bachelor party having fun, dancing with Betty, Veronica and JB. He watches as Veronica and JB gravitate increasingly towards each other, bodies brushing more and more often as if they can’t stop touching one another. Charles and Kevin are making out near the bar and the Betty has the rest of the bachelor party dancing around her like she’s a beacon of light and they’re all helpless moths. He wants to be there, he does, but he doesn’t want to feel inadequate next to Dylan’s moves so he just sits and broods into his drink for a few songs. 

After about twenty minutes, Charles and Kevin come up to him. “We are going to dance Jughead, and bachelor party lore reasons that you must join us.”

He tries to protest, but both of them stand there with their arms cross over their chests looking pointedly at him. 

Jughead rolls his eyes and mutters, “Fine!” 

He finishes his drink quickly and a grinning Kevin and Charles frog march him over to the rest of the party. 

Betty beams in delight when she sees him and reaches over to take his hands. “Juggie, you’re finally here!”

“Yes,” he gasps as she pulls him flush against her and slowly grinds on him. He can’t stop his hands from coming up to her waist and moving his body in kind. She’s unbearably beautiful and nigh impossible to ignore or deny. He can’t stop feeling pleased and aroused at the way that she’s looking at him; dark eyes penetrating his very being. He wants to devour her.

He doesn’t look anywhere but her; he can’t. His traitorous fingers are caressing the line of her hips and her hands are all over his back, teasing him as she undulates. Her dancing is incredibly erotic, but it wouldn’t matter to him anyway, because he knows just how much he loves her and how long he has dreamt of having his hands all over her just like this. She shifts underneath him, twitching her hips and he feels himself responding again, delectable heat coursing through his body. He needs to angle away from her carefully, lest she brush against his seemingly ever-present erection. 

“You’re so good at this!” She exclaims in his ear and her breath teases gently over his neck. 

Naturally (because he has no self control), he imagines her on top of him, gasping and begging for him to release her, crying, “Oh my god Juggie, you’re so good at this!”

He’s disturbingly turned on by the thought.

The music changes and it’s some pop song that Jughead vaguely recognises. He hears Charles screeching and suddenly Betty pulls away from him too soon. He knows the song, it’s a Katy Perry one and Charles has played it ten thousand times in their shared apartment, while cleaning, cooking and doing fucking paperwork. 

Charles and Betty are circling each other like boxers in a ring, but the whole thing is like a weird choreographed dance. Both are bouncing around, throwing pretend punches and singing at the top of their lungs: “You’re gonna hear me roar!”. He laughs, remembering countless Cooper dances over the years. They are completely nonsensical to everyone who watches, but seem utterly congruent to the participants. Charles and Betty are doing some really odd stretches while JB and Veronica clap and laugh next to them. They transition into deep lunges and the whole thing is bizarre and kind of a turn on. Betty’s legs are strong and smooth and he can’t help it if he wants them wrapped around him as he ravishes her against a wall. 

Can’t or won’t, the difference is immaterial at this point. He lets himself be taken by the music and the moment and just lets go. 

~~~

As the night goes on, Charles and Kevin get increasingly handsy. At one point, Charles’s shirt is mostly off and Kevin is trying to do body shots from him. Surprisingly, they don’t get kicked out for this behaviour. But when Charles and Kevin get up on the stage and start trying to pole dance the bouncers come over and throw them out. 

“You guys stay!” Kevin insists drunkenly as he and Charles are being ushered past them. 

“Yeah, we gonna bang all night!” Charles grins and throws his fist into the air, victorious. “Get some!”

The remaining group exchange amused grins. JB whoops loudly. 

~~~

Betty freshens up in the washroom, reapplying some lipstick and trying to remain upright. She’s had a lot to drink and knows she is well past tipsy and into drunk. She blames it on all the generous boys and the cosmos, but really, she’s using alcohol as a way not to melt into a puddle of nerves around Jughead. He’s so beautiful it makes her want to run her fingers all over his face and body and worship every inch of his skin. She wants him to beg for her, to ache for her. She has given up being mysterious and is actively trying to seduce him at this point, but the guy in question seems stoic and immovable. 

But then again, Jughead has always been stoic and immovable, so what’s new?

She sighs heavily and decides she can’t spend all night in the bathroom and goes to find JB and Veronica. 

She doesn’t need to search for long. JB and Veronica are locked in a passionate embrace in the darkened alcove between the bar and the washrooms. JB’s eyes are closed and she’s cradling Veronica’s head tenderly as she bends down to kiss the woman she’s been in love with since she was fourteen. 

Betty feels a little excited squeal escape her, but doesn’t want to interrupt them, so she quickly makes her way to the dance floor, thrilled with an unnamed sense of electricity coursing through her body. She wants to be touched and loved and have someone stare at her the way that JB stares at Veronica or Kevin stares at Charles. But more than anything, she wants that from Jughead. 

He’s not on the dance floor; she notices him back at the booth, nursing another drink. She leaves the rest of the party to fend for themselves; Dylan has already found three other women to fawn over him and the rest of the guys are dancing drunkenly. 

She walks over to Jughead. He looks up as she approaches and stares at her through dark eyes. 

“How are you going, Betts?” He asks her, roughly. His expression is tight, and she doesn’t know quite what to do with the tortured look in his eyes. 

“A bit drunk,” she admits and then scoots next to him, feeling the rough material of his slacks against her bare thigh. She puts her head his shoulder and hears his sharp intake of breath. Tilting her head, she looks up at him. 

His jaw is locked and he is staring straight ahead. 

“How are you doing?” She asks in return, willing him to look at her. Instead he shifts and puts his arm comfortably around her shoulders. His fingers rest lightly on her hip and she’s not too drunk to notice them brush against her intermittently as if he wants to touch her more, but is afraid to. She can feel her heart pound in her chest and molten heat course through her veins until it settles in her lower belly, making her almost gasp with the sheer intensity of _need._

He looks down at her now and smiles the classic Jones crooked grin. Her stomach is roiling at the dark look in his eyes. “Good, Betts, good.”

She can’t help that she’s just staring at the curves of his lips and chanting in her head: _kiss me, kiss me, kiss me…_

“Where are JB and Veronica?” Jughead asks, gaze intense. 

Betty giggles slightly and sighs, “Finally hooking up. I saw them before.”

Jughead’s eyes search hers. “Are you okay with this?” He asks, concern lacing his tone.

“Yes, Jughead I told you, I’m not in love with that Jon- with JB.” She thankfully catches herself before she admits her deepest secret. 

Jughead just looks amused and she lets out a little moan as his fingers curl more intently over her hip. She wants his hands all over her now. She sits up slightly and turns her torso to face him. 

Betty watches Jughead’s eyes widen and pupils dilate as she moves closer to him. She can hear the change in his breathing and his fingers tighten at her side. She runs her finger along his inner thigh, revelling in his shuddering breath. 

“Juggie,” she whispers and she leans in, eyes closed. 

Jughead’s fingers flex against her and his mouth brushes hers with excruciating softness. She moans and grips him, holding him against her.

“Betts,” he groans and then pulls back so their foreheads are touching, to stare into her eyes. She can see lust warring with distress in his expression. 

“What?” she whispers for fear he is going to move away. 

“Betty, beautiful, you’re drunk,” he says softly, expression tender, “I don’t want you to make a mistake you end up regretting.”

“What do you mean?” she murmurs, the swirling emotions in her brain and the alcohol in her system confusing her. 

Jughead sighs and folds her into his chest with great care, as if she is so precious; “I’m worried that you’re not thinking straight and are probably a bit emotional from the whole JB and Veronica thing. I mean, that is a huge change to your friendship group all of a sudden.”

She loves how much he cares about her despite hating how truthful his words are.

She buries her face into his chest and breaths deeply, enjoying the delicious scent that is so uniquely _Jughead_ that she just wants to remain like this all night. 

“Oh Betty, love,” Jughead’s hands come down around her and he’s stroking her hair gently as she finds herself sobbing into his shirt. It’s not that she’s upset about JB and Veronica per se, but Jughead is right, she does feel a bit left out, she does feel like they can never be the amazing trio of the past and it hurts something fierce. That coupled with Jughead’s gentle tenderness just grate on her over-imbibed brain. 

Jughead has _never_ comforted her like this before and he’s much more loving than she has ever imagined. It makes her love him even more, which then makes this whole situation hurt more. He brushes her hair and whispers softly in her ear, “You’ll be alright, everything will be fine…” and she just wants to stay with him forever. 

“Can I take you home Betty?” he asks her softly and for a moment she thinks he’s asking her to come back to his place. She knows she probably looks a mess as she stares up at him with panda eyes. 

“Yes please.”

The smile he gives her makes her melt a little. 

~~~

Jughead and Betty are sitting in the back of the taxi as it pulls up at the Cooper house. Jughead held her hand for the entire ride, making small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. 

“Here we are Betts,” he says, not moving his hand, “Are you alright to go inside?”

She shakes her head and steels herself before saying. “No, I don’t really want to be alone tonight. Can you come in with me?”

His eyes widen as he looks at her intently. “I don’t think that’s a good idea Betts.”

“Why?” she asks, angrily. He sits in silence, completely still and Betty breaks the tension insistently, “I’m not trying to compromise your innocence or anything, so…”

His eyebrows crook up at her and he says, “My _innocence_?” 

She scrunches her nose at him, “Yeah, I promise I won’t try and jump you. Just… please?”

He opens and closes his mouth several times in quick succession before he sighs and relents, “Fine, but can we please go to my house? That way we don’t have to put up with hearing Charles and Kevin all night?”

She giggles and nods. “Probably a good idea.”

Jughead gives the directions to the taxi driver and sits back against the seat with his back straight. 

“You won’t try and jump me?” he asks, somewhat incredulously. Betty laughs at his expression, but also feels a little bit hurt. 

“What, don’t you think I could do the jumping?” She asks a little petulantly. 

Jughead chokes on his breath and snorts, “I mean, I am sure you could.”

“But you’ve never seen it yourself,” Betty nods, drunk-babbling. “And you need to see it to believe it…”

Jughead’s expression is unreadable. “I think I could imagine it…”

She watches him go red and feels a flush of warmth go through her, immensely pleased with his reaction. Stoic, maybe, but immovable? She would see about that.

“I mean,” Jughead growls, correcting himself hastily, “I don’t need to see it to believe it.”

“Mmhmm,” she allows and watches with abject gratification as Jughead’s cheeks remain pink. 

When they pull up at Jughead’s house, he immediately lets go of her hand to throw cash down at the driver and then inclines his head, “Are you sure you want this?”

She wants to kiss him senseless because he’s so beautiful and caring. She nods with an assured expression on her face. 

He sighs and steps out of the taxi, moving around the other side of the vehicle to open the door for her and help her out. She’s grateful that he has because her feet are sore and the Jones’s driveway is gravel. 

After taking a couple of shaky steps tucked under his arm, he sighs heavily and stops. She looks up at him and he grins at her. “Don’t hate me for this,” he jokes and then lifts her into his arms. 

Betty squeaks in surprise as she rests against his chest. She has known for a while how delightfully muscular Jughead is, but being held against him like this is just… wow…

The warmth flooding her and melting her insides makes her feel impossibly achy. 

“Not so loud,” Jughead chuckles at her. Her hands are on his chest, so she can feel the laughter vibrate through his torso. It makes her feel delicious and sparkly. “My parents might wake up and think I’m trying to have my way with you.”

She looks up at him and can’t resist smirking at him, “We can’t have that, now, can we?”

His lips are pressed into a line, like he’s trying not to smile and she whispers, “They might be really upset at me for trying to seduce their precious boy.”

Jughead barks out a short laugh, “Yeah right.”

“You never know,” Betty says, not bothering to still her fingers as they trace his neck and shoulders. 

“I think we all know,” Jughead says through gritted teeth and stands her upright on the porch while he unlocks the door. She takes off her shoes so she can pad through the house quietly. 

She feels incredibly devious (which somehow makes the whole experience way more enjoyable) as she creeps into the Jones house late at night, holding on to Jughead’s hand as he guides her through the dark. They move silently up the stairs and Betty is immensely grateful that FP and Gladys’s room is at the very front of the house, far from Jughead’s room. 

Not that it should matter, but somehow she feels like it makes a huge difference. 

When they get upstairs he opens the room that says “KEEP OUT OR DIE” on the door and turns on the light. She knows this is JB’s room. 

“Here Betty, you can stay in this room,” Jughead ushers her in. 

“What?” she says numbly. 

“Don’t worry you can borrow one of my t-shirts to sleep in or something?” Jughead looks at her, panicked. 

She turns to him and folds her arms, “No Juggie, if I wanted to sleep in a room next to someone then I would have gone home. I want to sleep in the same room as you.”

Face lit up by JB’s room, Jughead starts fiercely. “What?”

“I mean,” Betty continues, feeling more out of her depth by the second, “I thought you agreed to this, in the taxi?”

Jughead’s hands go to his head and he looks incredibly uncomfortable. “I just didn’t think you meant that we would sleep in the same bed!” His voice is cracked and there is a depth to it that makes her want to hum in pleasure. 

He looks at her and she tries to put on her best innocent expression. 

“Urgh, fine!” he says, eyes wide. 

“Great!” she beams, not giving him another moment in which he could potentially change his mind. She moves past him and into his bedroom. It looks pretty much the same as two Christmases ago, when she tucked him into bed and ahh- well – not _only_ tucked him in, if she remembers correctly. Now his wedding and FBI stuff is around the room and it looks so fascinating mixed with the large band posters and sketches that Jughead created in his adolescence. 

Jughead hovers by the door, unsure. 

“So you mentioned I could have a t-shirt,” Betty asks, boldly sliding a strap of her playsuit off. Jughead goes red and opens his suitcase, tossing her a t-shirt without looking at her. 

“It feels weird to offer you boxers,” Jughead says, blushing into his suitcase, “But you’re welcome to take what you want out of this bag. Look, ah, I am just going to let you get changed.”

He practically runs out of the room and moments later Betty can hear him in the bathroom brushing his teeth. Betty picks her way through the suitcase and decides that she will go with just the t-shirt. It’s pretty long and the night is quite warm, so under the covers she won’t need anything else. 

A few minutes later, she hears a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” she says sweetly and Jughead enters the room slowly. 

He almost does a double take when he sees her and then shakes his head emphatically. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’ll be more comfortable like this,” she shrugs. “It’s hot tonight.”

Jughead looks at the window with such a longing expression she wonders if he is going to pitch himself through it. 

He grits his teeth and refuses to meet her gaze when he growls, “Betty, what if I decide to go shirtless?”

 _Mmm, yes please,_ Betty thinks. 

“I don’t mind,” she says instead. “It’s your room.”

Jughead looks at her with exasperation, “Yes, precisely, my room.” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as if trying to reach nirvana and says, “We need some rules.”

Her lips quirk up at the side, and she parrots him, “You cannot be serious.”

He just stares at her like he refuses to believe what she is saying. 

“I’m going to the bathroom, so just make yourself comfortable,” she says and then breezes out as if she hadn’t just asked him to relax in his own bedroom. 

~~~

Jughead cannot keep his eyes off Betty’s legs as she strides past him. 

The t-shirt is long, but not long enough for his liking. It should be down to the fucking floor like a nightgown and at least seven sizes bigger so she would just look like she’s swimming in a sack of fabric. He groans, thinking that he’d probably still find that unbelievably arousing anyway.

But now his suspicions are confirmed: Betty Cooper is a spy sent to torture him. 

He quickly changes, not wanting her to walk in and surprise him. He climbs into the bed and switches on the lamp. This whole thing is a horrible idea, he is still so confused of how he ended up in this position, with her wanting to _sleep next to him_ and him _carrying her_ and her talking about _jumping him._ It is more than his alcohol-soaked brain can handle at this stage. The painful erection that started in the taxi is still throbbing in his boxers and his heart is beating so erratically as he thinks of her hot, luscious body being inches from his all fucking night. 

He groans, burying his face into the pillow in utter mortification. He cannot believe that he agreed to this, and thinks, desperately, _What is wrong with me?_

But as usual, the intoxicating feeling of being next to Betty Cooper wins out in his warring consciousness. He can make much better judgments when she’s not staring at him half naked in the same room. Damn his fucking desire. 

Damn his helpless, hopeless love for her.

When they kissed before, he had panicked. He didn’t want for her to feel like he had to be drunk or at his best friend’s bachelor party to want to kiss her. He didn’t want her to feel like he was the kind of guy to take advantage of a drunk, vulnerable woman. It would destroy him if he made a move that she hated him for the next day. He could ruin everything.

On the other side of it, he wanted her to choose him because she wanted _him_ and no one else. He certainly didn’t want to feel like she was choosing him just because he was a warm, available body. That thought alone would kill him. He wanted her begging for him, desperate for him, but above all; he wanted her loving him as much as he loves her. 

When she walks back in the room, he sees that she’s taken most of her make up off. He wants to cry at how fucking _gorgeous_ she is and despite his better judgement, pats his hand on the bed next to him like he’s inviting her into this doomed love nest. 

She smiles graciously and practically skips to his side. 

He turns his face away as she slides her legs under the covers, not wanting to give himself more reason to be stiff as a board and high on anxiety for the whole night. He wonders how he’s going to get any sleep at all with her laying this close to him. 

“Oh good, you decided to take your shirt off,” she purrs at him and he knows that he definitely won’t be getting any sleep for dreaming about her wicked voice and words.

“Ahh Elizabeth,” he says with a desperate groan, “You’re killing me.”

Instead of looking admonished, his Betty looks delighted. “Oh good,” she repeats and moves up against his body. 

_She’s drunk,_ he reminds himself, but his cock is throbbing in his boxers now and he is dying for her to touch him.

Her face is so close, and her eyes are intense when they meet his own. If he moves forward an inch, their lips will touch. He casts his eyes down her face and they settle on her smooth, parted lips. He can hear her soft breathing and moans pitifully. 

“Will you turn away?” she asks, impossibly close and he wants to be the good guy, he wants to deny her but doesn’t. Instead, he reaches up to run his fingers along her soft cheek and down to brush the pad of his thumb on her lips. Her eyes are blown wide, luminous, bright green and her pupils are dilated. 

All previous arguments for why this is a stupid idea seemed to just crumble in his mind and filter out, like dust motes cast into the wind. He watches as her lips part again and her small, pink tongue darts out to touch his fingertip. He feels a quiver of electricity bolt through him and groans aloud.

“No,” he whispers, and watches in pleasure as her eyelids flutter closed. 

“But,” he says and she opens her eyes to narrowed slits of displeasure. He almost laughs; he too, hates what he is going to say. “Just a kiss. That’s it.”

Why is he doing this to himself? He had pretty much invited her to sleep with him, now is inviting her to kiss him? If she flashed him a pretty doe-eyed look and begged him to have sex with her, would he?

 _She’s drunk and vulnerable!_ He reminds himself ferociously. She cried into his shirt! Despite how badly he wants this, he will have to stop himself at a kiss; no further negotiations. 

“Why?” she pouts and he wants to _die._ Why now? If she really liked him, couldn’t she have told him before this precise, drunken, gorgeous moment?

He swallows hard and tries a valiant attempt at a smirk, “Because, like I said before, you’re drunk and I’m worried about consent. Also, I am worried because you haven’t had a chance to speak to JB and Veronica and so are probably still feeling a little bit raw.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. When her eyes meet his again, they’re amused.

“You’re such a sweetheart Juggie,” she says and he still feels like despicable pervert, so he hangs on to her words for dear life. “Fine, if that’s all I get.”

She sounds so put out that he can’t help but chuckle. 

Betty glares at him for a moment and says clearly, “Well? Do you want a written invitation? Kiss me, Jughead.”

The words he has been waiting to hear for _years_ roll off her tongue like honey and he moans, feeling impossibly wanted. 

He rubs his thumb along her lips and slides her hand into her hair, tenderly cupping the back of her head. Betty sighs that breathy little sigh of hers and he is lost, pulling her flush against him and kissing her with abandon. She moans against his mouth and her fingers run along his shoulder blade and down the side of his body, causing him to shiver against her. 

He feels like he is being broiled alive; his skin is on fire and there is a pulsating heat that fuels him, emboldens him. He can hear Betty’s desperate gasps as he kisses her deeply, flexing his fingers in her golden hair.

Never has he felt so aroused by kissing someone his whole life and without thinking too much, he pulls her on top of him. He’s thankful she’s straddling his midsection, even though it’s not the most comfortable sensation, this discomfort is nothing compared to the thought of her smooth thighs straddling his and her grinding slowly on his incredibly hard cock. 

Both his hands are fisted in her hair as he kisses her with messy, opened mouthed kisses. Her eyelashes flutter and she moans breathlessly, rolling her hips against him. He wants to drink in the desperate sounds she is making for him.

He knows he is stupid to do this, and think he can walk away from it unscathed, but this is the first time he’s ever kissed Betty and he wants her to be crying for more so she can come back to him when she’s not drunk and emotional. 

“Just kisses,” he groans, helplessly underneath her. _Please don’t forget about me, Betty Cooper._

“You’re so annoying,” she gasps into his mouth, but her eyes are filled with arousal and excitement as she runs her hands up over his chest and moans deliciously.

He feels heartened by her movements and tilts her head back to press kisses along her jawline and just beneath her ear. Her breathy moans are higher pitched now and he reaches up to capture her ear lobe in his lips, nibbling gently.

“And you’re delicious,” he purrs softly, despite himself.

Betty keens, nails digging into her chest as she rolling her hips on to his stomach. Jughead feels her smooth thighs tense around his midsection before she shudders, legs trembling. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes herself upright, panting heavily, her soft hair cascading around her face. 

Did he just make Betty Cooper come?

His throat tenses as he sees how flushed she is, and when her eyes meet his he is astounded by the depth of lust he sees in them. 

_Yes!_ he wants to scream, victorious and then lose himself in her sweet body. 

“Just kisses?” She asks, breathlessly, her eyes glistening. 

He nods sharply, not trusting himself to speak.

_Please don’t beg me, beautiful. I don’t have the willpower to deny you._

Betty looks a bit dejected as she slumps against him slightly. “Okay,” she allows, “If that’s where we must stop. I think I should probably get off you now.”

His dirty, filthy mind hears “Get you off” and it’s all he can imagine before Betty levers herself from him and slides into the covers next to him. This time, he watches as his t-shirt rides up her pale thigh and catches a glimpse of her underwear. This whole situation is pure torture.

“Goodnight Jughead,” she says, watching him intently. 

He reaches over her to turn out the light. In the dark, he allows himself to seek out her lips once more and kiss her softly, in promise. Her breath mingles with his and he has to mentally flay himself to stop.

“Goodnight Betty,” he whispers and rolls over so his back is facing her. As much as he wants her pressed up against him, he is impossibly hard right now and she will no doubt make things worse. 

His heart is still beating erratically in his chest and his mind is still reeling, running though the insanity of what just happened (and what he prevented from happening). 

Jughead is still thinking about it long after he hears Betty’s breathing even out as she falls asleep.


	8. The Alma Mater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved your comments from last week, thank you all so much! 
> 
> Special shout of to **redcirce** for summing up the two chapters so perfectly with: _You finally get them in a room together and Betty's all "I'm going to RAVAGE him" and Jughead wants to stroke her hair and almost swoon and thinks it's the most profound moment of his life. He's so soft. <3 _
> 
> Hahahah fucking love it.

It takes Betty a few moments to gain her bearings when she wakes. She’s lying in Jughead’s teen bedroom, pressed up against his back. She almost leaps back in surprise. She stops herself, calms her heartbeat and throws caution to the wind, deciding to stroke the side of his torso, from shoulder blade to hip. 

His breathing is deep and steady, so she knows he’s asleep. The time on her phone suggests it is seven in the morning, and she supposes it’s as good a time as any to leave. She knows that Jughead was highly concerned about his parents freaking out if they saw her here, so she wants to leave before FP gets up and decides to bother Jughead with the morning crossword; he’s an early riser. 

She rolls lightly out of bed, shimmies into her playsuit and grabs her shoes. She decides to leave the t-shirt on for now, because it smells like him and it makes her thrill to think of last night. 

On whim, she leans back over the bed and talk to the love of her life. 

“Good morning Juggie,” she whispers softly at his cheek before kissing him lightly. “I had fun last night and I hope you did too.”

He doesn’t stir under the blankets and he’s so still that Betty strokes his cheek gently. He looks remarkably peaceful and relaxed when he’s asleep, which makes her heart soar. “I’m going to leave now, before your parents get up so you don’t have to worry, okay? I’ll text you so you know. Have good day.”

She wants to say more, she wants to confess her love, but she’s seen all too many romance films where the protagonist makes a huge fool of herself in this exact situation, so knows not to. She kisses his cheek again anyway, enjoying his soft sigh, imagining it’s one of pleasure. 

Betty creeps out of his bedroom and down the stairs. She passes through most rooms of the house without incident and as she closes the front door gently upon her departure, she breathes a long sigh of relief. 

“Betty?” she hears a voice behind her. She tenses immediately. 

She can feel her heart pounding in her chest as she turns around to face FP and Gladys who have come back from their morning walk around the Riverdale neighbourhood. 

_Damn retirees,_ she thinks grumpily, _Can’t they get up at a normal time?_

“Good morning my darling second daughter,” Gladys says with a warm smile. FP looks like he is trying not to smile and is actively biting the inside of his cheeks. “I didn’t realise you stayed over last night.”

A sweet smile freezes on Betty’s face. “Oh,” she says, trying to get her brain to stop focusing on Jughead (and his hot body, how he kissed her so desperately and how she _came on him, ohmygod_ ) and start thinking about what she should be saying. “It wasn’t anything, you know, Jughead was just trying to make me feel better?”

Then, she realises how bad that sounds so she stammers, “I mean, he just let me lay next to him and we slept in his bed without touching. Well, I mean, we touched and then - ah yikes…”

Gladys and FP exchange a look that Betty can only describe as horribly amused and possibly mischievous. 

Betty is super panicked now. She waves her arms and backpedals fast, “Please don’t be mad at him, I asked him to do this and I really didn’t want to be alone. He was such a gentleman, too much so if you ask me. I mean, for the love of all things holy, could he not just throw…”

 _What on earth are you saying?_ Her mind screeches at her, _I know you’re hung over and drunk on lust, but please baby girl, not to Jughead’s parents!_

Betty’s voice ratchets to new pitches when she says, “But _anyway_ we don’t need to talk about _that_. Oh my god, what I am trying to say is that you both raised him so well!”

She wants to slap herself. 

Gladys smirks pointedly at FP, who has an expression on his face that makes him look like he’s trying to swallow a whole lemon, and turns back to Betty with her mom smile. “Honey, of course we won’t be mad at him.”

“Good,” she hears herself say, wringing her hands.

Gladys smiles indulgently, “If you want, you can come have breakfast with us; I’m making waffles. We can just pretend that you showed up out of the blue?”

Betty almost shudders as she pictures the scene in her head: Jughead all gorgeous and sleep-rumpled, walking downstairs to greet her glittery ass (wearing his t-shirt, smelling like him) at his parents’ kitchen table eating waffles. He would freak out and probably expire from sheer embarrassment. 

“Oh, Gladys and FP, that would be amazing, but I should head home before my family worries about me.”

“Next time then, Betty,” FP says in a choked voice. Gladys covers her mouth with her hand and slaps him lightly across the chest. 

Then they nod, smiling at her and she honestly has no idea what to make of this whole situation. She smiles awkwardly in return and moves to head down the driveway. 

“Please don’t tell him you saw me,” she begs, stopping to look back at them with what she hopes is her most pleading (and innocent) expression. “He was really stressed last night.”

FP opens his mouth to say something and then decides against it, opting to cough loudly instead. Gladys nods with a smile. “Not a problem Betty, your secret is safe with us.”

Betty thanks them deeply and all but flees from the scene, mortification a living thing in her belly.

~~~

The Cooper house is quiet when she returns and sneaks up the stairs to her room. Not that it will make an iota of difference because her parents will know that she spent the night _in Jughead’s bed_ the moment Gladys or FP message them. They are a gaggle of notorious gossips with nothing better to do than speculate about her and Jughead. Betty is fairly certain they have a group message between the four of them for their little rumours and conjectures. Despite knowing all of this, Betty breathes a sigh of relief when she sits down in her unicorn room, and looks around. 

_What a night! What the hell happened?_ She is excited, aroused and more confused than ever as she considers last night’s happenings. So Jughead wanted her to feel safe, was okay kissing her, but didn’t want her to be drunk…

Did that mean that he actually wanted to have sex with her? She feels insanely turned on at the thought of Jughead ravishing her up against a wall. She hopes that if that particular fantasy were to transpire that he wouldn’t be too gentle with her. Betty shivers at the thought of his gorgeous, dark blue eyes on hers, drinking her in as he pleasured her. 

Her phone pings with a text message from JB. When Betty opens the text, she also notices another couple of messages from much earlier in the morning that she hasn’t seen.

 **JB:** B, Veronica and I are going back to hers, want to come? 

**JB:** Where are you? Are you okay?

 **JB:** B, someone said you left? Did you go home? Are you upset with me?

 **JB:** Hey Betts, sorry we left last night without you. Please call me when you wake up <3

Betty feels a flood of guilt through her as she thought about her little freak out from last night, worried that her friends would forget about her, when she forgot about them!

She calls JB immediately, and despite it being an ungodly hour for her, JB answers. “Thank god, are you mad at me?”

“No,” Betty says hastily, “I just saw you and Veronica… and well…”

“Shit,” JB curses and mumbles something, presumably to Veronica. “Please come over, we will do breakfast and talk about it?”

“Of course, just let me get changed first. I’ll be right over.”

When JB and Veronica open the door to Lodge Manor, Betty wants to cry and beg for forgiveness at their worried faces. They both look so stressed and concerned as they watch for her reaction. Without thinking, she launches herself into both of them and gives them the biggest hug of her life. 

She’s surprised when she starts crying against JB’s shoulder and even more alarmed when JB and Veronica start weeping with her. 

“Why are you crying?” She wails at them through a haze of tears. 

“Why are you?” JB sobs brokenly and Veronica lets out a little mournful keening sound. 

“Because I am so sorry I didn’t tell you when I left last night, I am such a terrible friend!” Betty weeps. 

JB makes a spluttering sound and pulls back, wiping her eyes. “What, no, I thought you were upset about Veronica and me?”

Tears glisten in Betty’s eyes as she shakes her head. “Of course not. You two have been in love with one another for a long time. It’s magical to finally see it happen.”

Veronica’s look of wonder is beautiful to behold.

Betty takes a deep breath and says what she has been feeling so vulnerable about for the past few years, “I am sad for me because I feel like I am going lose out on some Veronica and JB time, and so I am having a self-pity party.”

JB scoffs, “You will never be left out. Well except for the sex part…”

Betty giggles at seeing Veronica blush hotly and wipes tears from her eyes, “Naturally.”

“Because you know us Joneses are horribly monogamous,” she sighs and scrubs a hand over her face, “Due to the fact that we are such jealous jerks. I really have to thank FP for that stellar combination of genetics.”

Veronica chuckles, “You can’t just blame your dad for your insecurities JB.”

JB cracks an eye at Veronica and laughs, “Oh yeah? Watch me.”

Betty can feel that the whole air has shifted. JB looks relaxed and genuinely happy for the first time in her life and Veronica is beaming, looking comfortable and satisfied in her own home. There’s just something so _right_ about it all that it makes Betty want to cry, but with joy this time.

Veronica rubs Betty’s arm soothingly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be, I’m just feeling a little bit left behind,” Betty confesses, the feeling of guilt flooding her again, “Not that it’s your problem, and well, I just… ahh… I may have done something stupid last night with Jughead and I am still reeling from it…”

Veronica and JB share a look. “Come into the kitchen Betty, we’ve made breakfast for you. We can talk about it over waffles.”

Betty starts and says without thinking, “Oh your mom invited me for waffles this morning when she caught me…”

JB turns to her with a shocked expression, “Holy shit, Betty did you do the walk of shame from my house and get caught by my parents?”

Betty grimaces, “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” Veronica squeals. 

Betty waves her hands hastily and stammers, “No, no, not like that! We didn’t – ah – sleep _sleep_ together if you catch my drift?”

JB is trying to hide a smirk as she gives Betty a plate of waffles and pushes a bowl of chocolate sauce towards her.

Veronica passes her a mug of coffee and says, “What happened?”

Betty blushes, “I’m not quite sure to be honest.”

JB and Veronica look at her patiently. JB’s lips are twitching and Betty feels just as embarrassed as facing down maybe-next-time FP and hello-second-daughter Gladys earlier.

“So, well,” she starts, “After I saw you two kissing at La Bonne Nuit, I kissed Jughead and he sort of stopped me-,”

“What?” interjects JB, incredulously, “No way! That utter **moron**.”

Betty nods, “Well, kind of. He said I was too drunk and I was feeling upset about you two…” She sighs and says, “He was right about one thing, at least: I was a bit upset for being left out.”

JB’s expression morphs from frustrated anger to concern. She rubs Betty’s shoulder reassuringly, which makes Betty want to cry from the tenderness; JB never provides this type of comfort. 

“Anyway,” she casts her eyes to the ceiling and admits, “Then, as if to sabotage my chances, I cried into his shirt!”

“What?” Veronica exclaims.

“I know!” Betty wails, “Like I’m some dumb teenager who can’t hold her liquor and a cup full of emotions inside of her all at once.”

“Well, that probably confirmed to Jughead that you were too drunk and that you were feeling vulnerable,” JB points out succinctly and not without reason. Betty glares at her anyway.

“So, he tries to drop me home, and I literally beg him to come inside and stay with me. We decide his place is better because, well, Charles and Kevin are in the room next to me.”

JB lets out a cackle at this. “Oh yeah! Love that when Charles left, he was like “Get some!” to us all. What a magnificent player.”

“So you go back to the Jones’s place?” Veronica asks Betty intently.

“Yeah,” Betty says, feeling mortified, “He tried to get me to sleep in JB’s bed, but I pretty much coerced him so I could sleep next to him. Then he kissed me…”

“What?” Both Veronica and JB yell in excited surprise.

“Yeah, and oh my god, this is so embarrassing to admit.” Betty looks between her two best friends and steels herself, knowing that JB has told her many more embarrassing sexual things. “He pulled me on top of him and honestly, I nearly died. I mean, I _came_ while he was kissing me.”

Veronica smirks and says, “I know what that’s like.”

JB blushes furiously and looks away. 

Betty grins at Veronica, “Yes!” 

She feels a little less self-conscious now and continues; “So then I kind of begged him to go further, but he said no and slept next to me with his back facing me for the rest of the night.”

She is surprised when JB cracks up laughing. 

“What?” Betty says, concerned, “What did I do?”

“Ha!” JB snorts, “Poor guy, Betty. Feel sorry for him.”

“Why?” Betty asks, indignant. “Because he missed a golden opportunity to give it to me?”

“HA! Yes obviously that and well… I mean, he sounds like he just spent the whole night trying not to make you feel like you were being taken advantage of, and then you kept trying to start something.” JB waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh maybe,” Betty says, feeling a little glow of warmth inside her at the thought. 

“I tell you what,” Veronica says, “As a mostly impartial third party observer, I will analyse his moves and let you know what I think. How does that sound?”

“Thank you V,” Betty sighs, “That sounds necessary to prevent myself from going crazy.”

“Although,” Veronica concedes, “I don’t know if you need that much more proof than the bachelor party. He watched you the whole time. Plus, he was acting super strangely. It was like he was all straight-backed and stiff-,”

“LOL!” hollers JB unhelpfully, with her hand curled around her mouth like she’s holding a fake megaphone.

“-upper lip about the whole thing,” Veronica finishes, rolling her eyes at JB endearingly. “Do you think he’s just waiting for the right moment when you’re not drunk and – um sorry Betty - _crying on him_?”

Betty winces and curses her stupid emotional reaction from the previous night.

JB makes a humming sound. “I also reckon he’s super stressed about Charles. I mean, he is back in Riverdale for Charles’s wedding and well… to sleep with you at the bachelor party – he might be worried that Charles would find it… I dunno? Disrespectful? Not that it has anything to do with Charles, mind you.”

Betty sighs, “Ah yes, of course. You’re probably right. I guess guys don’t really talk about this sort of thing.”

JB barks a laugh. “Could you _imagine_ Jughead going to Charles and saying: “Hey life-long best friend, are you all supremely chill with me giving it to your youngest sister, brah? I swear I am not some creeper who has lusted after her since she was a cheerleader in high school.”” JB’s Jughead voice is too much for her right now.

Betty rakes her hands through her hair, “Holy shit, you’re probably right.” She slumps. “I don’t think I can do much about that, though.”

“Just be super obvious about it,” Veronica smirks at her. “It worked for me.”

“Yeah so tell me, how did this awesome thing happen?” Betty asks with a huge grin.

JB blushes furiously, which delights Betty to no end.

Veronica leans on the breakfast bench and says, “So after increasingly obvious attempts to get JB to either slow grind on me so much she loses her mind or throw her off long enough to kiss her, JB says “I need another drink, want to have a shot with me?””

JB laughs adorably, “To be fair, you were throwing me off. You kept putting my hands on you!”

“Take a hint JB, come on!” Veronica snorts, “I mean, for someone who has been teasing you-know-who about you-know-what-,”

“Veronica, I know you’re talking about JB annoying me about Jughead,” Betty says dryly and JB makes a wailing sound of frustration. 

“Ah it _kills_ me to think that I might be as obtuse as my fucking brother though!” JB shudders and dry heaves melodramatically. 

Veronica giggles, “So I had to get aggressive.”

JB rolls her eyes and blows a mocking kiss to Veronica. “Okay, so maybe we Joneses need to have affection punched into our faces for it to make sense…”

Betty squeals, “Oh my god Veronica! Did you punch JB in the kisser? That’s the dream!”

“ _That’s_ the dream?” JB laughs, “Of all the dreams: my idiot brother professing his undying love for you, a Pulitzer Prize, my dumbass brother giving it to you hard and punching me is the dream?”

“Anyway!” Veronica interrupts, “We go up to the bar to order shots and JB turns to me and says, “What do you want babe?””

“Aww you called her babe? Without me being there as an emotional crutch?” Betty smiles dreamily, “Cute!”

“Shuddup!” JB says, going pink and then covers her face with her hands, “It gets worse.”

Veronica smirks, “Well, you know that when I am drunk I am more inclined to say-” she pauses, looks around the room as if expecting Smithers to show up and whispers, “-dirty words.”

Betty remembers the first time JB had gotten Veronica to say the word “fuck”. It had taken four hours, lots of obscene metal music and a sugar high from a whole jar of those peach candy hearts before she whispered it and blushed to the roots of her hair.

“Yeah I know!” Betty laughs, “So what did you say?”

“I said-,” Veronica blushes profusely and giggles at her boldness. “I said, “JB, I want you to give me a wet pussy.””

“OH MY GOD!” Betty shrieks, and Veronica and JB clap their hands over their ears and moan dramatically.

“Tell her the whole of what you said though,” JB laughs through her mortification. 

Veronica grins widely. “I said, “JB, I want you to give me a wet pussy. Oh wait don’t worry, you already have.””

Betty cackles with laughter; the embarrassment on Veronica’s face in her saying something so sexual and then repeating at the family breakfast bench while JB looks amused and shell-shocked is too perfect for words. 

“What did JB do?” Betty asks, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“She spat her water all over me in surprise,” Veronica laughs and JB makes a screeching sound that Betty adores. “It was a fine mist all over my body.”

JB groans pitifully, her cheeks flushed. “I told you it got worse.”

“But then she panics and drags me to the bathroom to get me cleaned up and I push her against the wall – and grab her head because she’s way too tall for me – and kiss the living daylights out of her.”

“Wow!” Betty says with glee, “And that worked?”

“Nah, JB freaked out and said, “No don’t Veronica, I love you!”” Veronica smirks while JB whimpers into her hands in agony. “I said, “I know you idiot, I love you too.” And then we – um – kind of got it on in the back of my family limo.”

“Woo! You guys are amazing!” Betty cheers, “I am so impressed, I feel like I need to take a leaf from your book, Veronica!”

Veronica gives her such an uncharacteristically arrogant smile that Betty has to laugh. 

“I love you both so much,” Betty sighs happily. 

JB is smiling at her with an expression that’s so Gladys that she can’t help but feel supported. “Betty, we love you so much too.”

Veronica reaches across the table to hold her hand. “Absolutely. You will always be our best friend.”

Betty looks between them both and says, “Please don’t break up or anything, because I love what we have.”

JB smirks and folds her arms with a cocky expression. “I’ve been in love with Veronica since I laid eyes on her. I don’t think I’m going to change my mind any time soon.”

Veronica beams and says brightly, “I think I found you attractive from the moment you slapped me and called me a bitch.”

JB chokes on her coffee. Betty laughs while she splutters and tries to breathe normally. JB’s grin is wide when she says, “That’s _interesting_ Veronica, I think we should explore that a bit more.”

Betty watches as Veronica blushes to the roots of her hair and knows deep down that while everything has changed, this new chapter will be so much more beautiful than the last. 

~~~

When Jughead wakes on Sunday to the smell of fresh waffles, pure adrenaline courses through his body as the memories from the previous night flood back. He had spent most of the night wide-awake, listening to her breathing. At one point he even talked himself in to turning on the bed and pulling her into his arms, brushing her hair back from her face and whispering (aloud, because there was a certain thrill to it) that he loved her and always would.

Betty is beautiful at all times, but asleep she looks delicate and it makes him feel fiercely protective of her. Yet in between those cemented feelings of “I will protect sweet Betty Cooper from any harm” comes with it flashes of last night and how _different_ she was, in general, but especially around him. 

It drove him wild. 

He moans softly remembering Betty’s pouty expression, her smooth legs and how he could have had his _cock buried deep inside her_ and growls in frustration. All the _sheer lack of fucking_ frustration.

He turns on the bed, not surprised to find her gone, but still disappointed. The pillow has the lingering scent of summer and wildflowers and he buries his face into it helplessly, groaning loudly at all the things that could have been.

 _You did the right thing,_ his moral compass reminds him. He knows this; of course he did the right thing, because nothing would have been worse than taking advantage of a woman, let alone her being drunk, vulnerable and the love of his miserable life, Betty Cooper. 

So why is he still filled with regrets? Surely doing the right thing shouldn’t make him feel driven insane with lust? Surely it should fulfil him with righteous indignation or some crap like that? 

_It’s because you’re wild for her,_ his brain reminds him (as if he’s forgotten the slew of desperate feelings that boil over in her presence). 

When did she get so fucking sexy though? It electrified him and made him insane to think of how flirtatious she was last night… alcohol or not, that was a side to her that he had never seen before. It didn’t take him much to admit that he was desperate to see it again, though, this time with less dubious consent. 

He groans into the pillow, inhaling deeply as if trying to send himself back in time to replay the whole of last night. 

_Just for a moment, imagine that she told you earlier while sober: “Juggie, I think you’re hot and I love you.”_ He moans pathetically, aroused again.

His memory provides him the image of her straddling him last night, her eyes molten and soft as she gasped at him, making those delicious little noises. He now can confirm exactly what Betty Cooper’s sex noises sound like and he’s desperate to hear them again. 

He imagines himself grasping her hips and pulling her further up so that she straddles his face. He would watch her breasts pushing back against _his_ t-shirt as she hums in pleasure and slowly slide her underwear aside to taste her. 

Jughead grasps himself and runs his hands up the length of his erection.

_Sweet fuck._

She would gasp in pleasure and press her hips down, grinding on to his face and he would lick, nibble and tease at her wetness so that she keened against him, threading her fingers through his hair and demanding more. 

He pumps his hand desperately over his length as he dreams of her crying out his name and pushing her wet quim shamelessly onto his lips, worshipping her gorgeous body. 

When Jughead comes, it is animalistic and desperate, and he is dreaming for a redo on reality. 

~~~

Val has graciously allowed Betty to work three full days from Monday through to Wednesday so that she can have Thursday and Friday off to help Alice and Charles pull together the finishing touches to the wedding. 

It’s Monday morning and despite feeling frustrated and a bit rusty from the weekend, there is nothing more that Betty wants than to break into Riverdale high and feel the delicious adrenaline rush cleanse her. 

She’s about to sneak out of the bathroom and down the stairs to leave when she bumps into Kevin, who is still looking slammed (in all senses) from Saturday night (he and Charles barely left the room yesterday) and is rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

His face splits into a large genuine grin when he sees her, “Morning Betty.”

“Morning Kevin,” she says softly, smiling in return. 

“Did you have fun on Saturday night?” Kevin asks, leaning back against the doorframe, yawning hugely. 

“Of course,” Betty assures him, as though she wasn’t a random gatecrasher to his bachelor party. “Your friends are super lovely, by the way. Especially Dylan.”

Kevin smirks, “Oh yeah? He is _lovely_ isn’t he?”

She wrinkles her nose. 

“Look, considering we didn’t end up going to the Whyte Wyrm the other night, Charles and I are planning on going on Thursday, do you, JB and Veronica want to come?” Kevin’s gaze is directed.

“Sure, you all going to play pool or is there a live show?” She asks, “Will it be all the guys?”

“Yes, Jughead will be coming,” he smirks at her again and she rolls her eyes. “Yes we are going to play pool and that’s primarily the reason I’m inviting you: you’re a pool shark and I want you to show up the other guys for me.”

Betty laughs, “Yeah, no problem at all. I think I’m a little bit out of practise on the moves, but more than happy to try and beat the others.”

Kevin sighs, relieved, “Thank god, because I couldn’t live with the humiliation of losing last time so I want you to make them squirm, especially Dylan.”

“Uh huh,” she says slowly, thinking about it, “How should I make them squirm?”

“Oh, your usual charm, you know?” Kevin grins, “Plus, it would kill me a little bit if you put on a teensy little bit of an act to just play the part of girl who has never played before but has _really_ good beginner’s luck?”

She laughs again, charmed, “Oh my, Dylan must have really upset you last time. I’ll see what I can do.”

She is about to walk out of the bathroom when Kevin says, “He thinks you’re stunning by the way.”

“Who? Dylan?” She asks, not turning around. 

“Well yes, him, but I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Jughead.”

Betty feels her heart in her throat and runs back to face him slightly. This is the kind of validation she needs! When she speaks, her voice comes out all breathy, “Really?”

“Yeah. Trust me, honey, I know men well. Even the straight ones,” Kevin says sincerely. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.”

Betty can’t stop smiling all the way on her drive to Riverdale High.

It is seven in the morning by the time that Betty arrives on campus of the old alma mater. Riverdale High is nicer than she remembers, but she supposes it could be because she has long left this place behind. She only hopes that she remembers enough of its quirks to get around the building relatively undetected. 

She climbs in through the low basement windows of the art room. They keep the windows permanently open because still air and paint fumes are not a good combination. As she shoves past bushes, crawling on her hands and knees in the garden bed, she wonders idly why they don’t just move the room to a different location. Not that she’s complaining, because it turns out to be a cinch for her to slide down on to one of the adjacent desks and she’s thankful she has worn shorts today, not a skirt so that her mobility is unrestricted. 

Once she gets onto the desk, she dusts her clothes off and jumps onto the floor in her white Chuck Taylors. 

_Sneakers for sneaking,_ she thinks and pads out into the main hallway. 

She first goes to where the school’s CCTV circuit is and checks the cabinet. Sure, they will catch her entire art room slide on camera, but at least they won’t know what she came for. She notices with dispassion that someone forgot to turn on the CCTV, so she just leaves it in the off position and makes a beeline for the administrators’ office. 

In high school, Dilton Doiley had given her all the admin access passwords and a copy of the master key in exchange for a kiss on the lips. She had negotiated him down to a kiss on the cheek and had left infinitely wealthier, with all the secrets of the school at her disposal. That was primarily how _The Blue & Gold_ became so accurate on details of exposés that year. Mr Weatherbee was flummoxed. 

It’s almost too easy for Betty to break in again, feeling jittery and excited by doing these little illegal things, as she boots up the computer and waits until the lock screen loads. 

She types in three different passwords before _RiverdaleAdmin!_ lets her in with no further troubles. 

Betty dives quickly into the files of the whole cheerleading team, knowing that this will likely take her the whole morning unless she moves at speed. She prints copies of their class lists from last year. Ideally, she would also be able to get medial records, but they are stored in the nurses’ office and she never had the password for that particular computer, which is not accessible on the network. 

She starts reading the files as she’s printing and making notes on a small piece of paper where the girls had classes before afterschool cheerleading practice. There were a few possible paths they could have taken on their way to the gymnasium, and Betty need to investigate all of them to see if there was a potential for some sort of odd chemical exposure. After all, she couldn’t rule out general exposure, with Jenny as an anomaly. As far as she is aware, although highly dubious, only Jenny had methamphetamines and amphetamines appear in her tox screen. 

She decides to start with the cafeteria. She collects her papers and stuffs them into her backpack before walking briskly and silently down the hallway. 

Riverdale High in the summer is so quiet and dusty that it creeps her out a bit. As she approaches the cafeteria, she notices that the light is on inside. She knows from experience that it’s a sensor light, so she approaches with caution. 

Considering she’s trespassing right now, it’s important for her play this very carefully. 

Betty squares her shoulders and walks through the doors. No one is in sight and she can’t hear any odd noises. She pokes around a bit before deciding to duck behind the bain maries and into the kitchen. 

What if the girls were exposed to something at lunch that took a while for it to take effect? Seems implausible, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t take a look. 

Betty starts rummaging through boxes and checking out containers. There is nothing out of the ordinary in this room at least; everything just looks like regular food. She takes a couple of photos, just in case she needs to refer back at a later stage. 

She’s about to leave when a small box on the countertop catches her attention. It’s filled with all manner of gorgeous coloured sugars for confectionary and cupcake icing and Betty sighs in wistfulness at the glittery pastel colours. She takes a few photos to show her mom later and then, on whim, picks up a plastic straw-like tube. 

The colours look even more beautiful up close, glinting in the light. Betty sighs. Surely Riverdale High won’t miss one small tube of sugar? She shrugs and then tucks it into her backpack. As she’s twisted into a crouch, she hears a scraping sound at the external kitchen door, which leads to the delivery dock. 

_Someone is out there!_

Without pausing to think, she turns on heel and runs. She doesn’t want to be caught in the act of a list of misdemeanours at best and felonies at worst. 

She’s out the door like a shot, putting all her running training with Tom into practise. Betty sprints out of Riverdale High as fast as she can. She doesn’t look back as she jettisons herself into her car and drives off with a screech of tyres like she’s in a bank heist film. 

~~~

**2.47pm Monday, group chat**

**My Queen V:** Urgh I still feel hungover, how did you go to work today Betty?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Adrenaline. Plus I went to Riverdale High this morning, so I was excited :)

 **My Amex Black Card:** You broke in to RH? How was it?

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Very uneventful. I’ve got heaps of documents though, so I will spend my next couple of days poring over and logging them.

 **My Amex Black Card:** Snore!

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Oh by the way, this morning Kevin asked if we all wanted to come to bachelor party 2.0: pool hall edition at the WW

 **My Queen V:** Do these guys do anything other than drink?

 **My Amex Black Card:** Yeah, they also all hit on Betty.

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Hey! 

**My Amex Black Card:** Prove to me that I’m wrong

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** That’s not how the burden of proof works! 

**My Amex Black Card:** Snore!

 **My Queen V:** I can’t really play pool, but I am happy to come and hang out 

**My Amex Black Card:** Yeah neither but I love the Wyrm, so I’ll be there. We need to let our girl Betty have the best chance to teach those dudes a lesson

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** ::fire::

~~~

**9.09pm Wednesday, group chat**

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Hey guys, can I get your opinion about something 

**My Amex Black Card:** The answer is yes. Yes, you are in love with Jughead

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** <picture>

 **My Amex Black Card:** Is that a dead rat, Betty? Since when did you take up post-apocalyptic photography? 

**My Queen V:** Well it’s no Viivi Häkkinen, that’s for sure

 **My Amex Black Card:** Keep your rich person art references out of here 

**My Queen V:** ::eyeroll:: uncultured swine

 **My Amex Black Card:** Yeah watch this uncultured swine make you scream

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** Damn guys, swoon! 

**My Queen V:** Sorry Betts. Why are there stitches in it? And really bad ones at that… speaking from a long road of experience 

**Mrs Jughead Jones:** Not sure, I found it on the bonnet of my car after work and I just wondered if it was a pet that some raven picked up

 **My Amex Black Card:** Creepy. #SnitchesGetStitches 

**My Queen V:** Lol

 **Mrs Jughead Jones:** :P

~~~

On Thursday morning, JB surprises Jughead by showing up at his parent’s house and kicking down the door to his childhood room. 

He looks up from his work laptop, startled at the fierce expression on her face. 

“We need to talk about Betty,” she announces and he groans loudly. Not this again. 

“JB,” he warns, his voice foreboding, “I assure you that I am distinctly not in the mood for this topic of conversation.”

She looks at him intently and then rolls her eyes. “Not talk in the way that you want to throw her down on a bed and ban-,”

He shoots her a warning glance.

“Bring her breakfast?” JB offers with a smirk. She can see through everything and he can’t stand how transparent he is. “Not in that way, my moronic older brother. No. I want to ask your advice about her.”

Now he rolls his eyes, “Planning on asking her out now are you?”

“On your behalf, sure,” JB allows and then says, “Oh, yeah I forgot to tell you, Veronica and I are going out now.”

Jughead looks at his sister, who is positively glowing with happiness. “Wow, that’s amazing! Betty told me that you two hooked up on Saturday night. I’m glad it finally happened.”

JB smirks at him, “Yeah and what about you and Betty?”

Jughead feels a bolt of alarm shoot through him, his anxiety spiking. He’s not ready to have this conversation with anyone yet, least of all his sister. 

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” Jughead snaps, because (obviously) he has been on edge about this all week. 

JB raises both of her eyebrows and hands and says, “Fine, okay touchy. I wanted to talk to you about Betty and FBI stuff.”

He goes still for a moment. “What do you mean “FBI stuff” and Betty? Is she interested in joining?”

“No, I think in her Register job, she’s stumbled on something a bit fucked.”

Jughead scoffs, “In Riverdale? Honestly JB, nothing happens here. Ever. Ask dad.”

JB sits down on his bed and pulls out her phone. She shows him a photo of a dead rat. “Betty found this on the bonnet of her car. It has stitches in it Jughead.”

He briefly glances at the photo and shrugs, “So?”

“Across the mouth.” She zooms in to the photo and he can see the dark blue stitching across the rat’s snout. 

“Okay,” he says slowly, “That is weird. But it doesn’t warrant FBI involvement. Betty just needs to be more careful.”

“With investigating?” JB says incredulously. “You didn’t go to school with her, you don’t remember what she was like: breaking and entering, bugging people’s offices and blackmailing students.”

He chokes in surprise, “What? Our Betty did that?”

JB raises her eyebrows at him. “Yeah, why do you think she’s so good at what she does? She’s so diligent that she’ll follow any lead to the extent.”

“Okay, look, I can’t promise that I will be able to do anything about it except tell Betty to cool her jets or something.”

“HA!” JB yells at him, looking a little manic, so he can tell she’s worried about this. “You would need to physically restrain her for that to work. Telling her to “cool her jets” is a sure fire way for Betty to just sneak around your back.”

Ignoring the litany of delightful scenarios the words “physically restrain her” cause in him, he wonders if he has always known how stubborn Betty is. His mind helpfully replays the way she practically beat him into submission to sleep in the same bed as him and sighs wistfully. 

_Fuck, she’s perfect._

“Can you send me the photo?” Jughead asks, words all business while his mind is all filth. “What else do you know about this?”

JB shrugs, “Not much really, Betty doesn’t talk about “active investigations”.” She put this in air quotes and Jughead doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. “I know it’s got something to do with half the cheerleading team fainting though.”

“Great,” he groans, mind still in the gutter, “River Vixens.”

JB elbows him and jokes suggestively, “Oh yeah, I know what you mean.”

He gives her such a dirty look that she laughs at him. 

“Well,” JB says lightly, “See you at the Whyte Wyrm tonight.”

He nods and turns back to his laptop before saying, “What? You were invited?”

JB’s grin is indulgent, “Oh yeah big bro, Kevin invited Jeronibeth.”

He pauses for a moment and then groans, “That’s horrible. What about Beronythia?” 

JB barks out a laugh when he uses her actual name in the mash up. “That sounds like a fantasy land.”

“Bridge to Beronythia,” Jughead clicks his fingers and JB groans this time. 

“Anyway, we will be there to play a few games.” JB says, watching him closely for any reaction. 

“Great, I’ll see you there,” he says shrugging. 

The smirk that JB has on her face when she leaves the room worries him. 

He tries to go back to his work, but his mind is on her, of course. He groans, rubbing his hands over his face and opens up his phone to stare at their text chain. His phone is already open on the message and he obsessively scrolls through, re-reading and analysing each line. 

He felt even more perverted to have her in his phone as _Charles’s sister_ so he has finally changed in to “Betty Cooper”. 

**Betty Cooper <3: ** Juggie, thanks for looking after me last night <3

 **Betty Cooper <3: ** Sorry I left before you woke up

 **Betty Cooper <3: ** Have a good day x

Did she count kissing her senseless as “looking after” her? Was she happy with what happened? Was she regretting it? Her text messages were so innocuous that they caused him physical pain to read. 

He remembered how fucking long it took him to respond. How he had agonised over fresh waffles, while his parents had watched him with weird looks on their faces, interrupting his Betty-induced freak-out to ask him odd questions about the previous night, like: “Who was at the bachelor party?” and “How was your sleep, son?” Fucking weird. 

He mostly ignored them and looked at his phone. What to say?

 _I’ll look after you like that anytime_ \- too sleazy?

 _Come over here and let’s replay that whole scenario, this time with a more satisfying finish._ \- Down boy! Ya filthy animal!

 _I’d have a better day if you were with me ;)_ \- too corny?

 _I had fun, no worries_ \- too callous?

 _You can sleep with me whenever you want_ \- HA! Dream on!

 _I love you, Betty Cooper. You enchant me._ \- Uhh… too real.

In the end, he settled for: **No problem Betts. Happy to help. Have a good day yourself**

She had responded almost immediately with a single red love heart, which haunted his every moment following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Whyte Wyrm pool hall! As usual, love to hear what you all think!


	9. Ball Breaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday night: Whyte Wyrm Bachelor Party 2.0  
> 

Jughead hasn’t been to the Whyte Wyrm in over four years, but is unsurprised to note that it is as decrepit and dingy as he remembers. He spies the giant scorch mark on the wall, with the frame painted around it and smirks; he still cannot believe that his mother set a fire at the Whyte Wyrm when she was a teenager. Knowing he’s the product of a rebellious pyro rocker and a straight-laced jaded sheriff explains a lot about both his and his sister’s personalities. 

He has been working all day, so it’s nice to be standing up and letting blood flow to his extremities. Kevin and Charles have been helping to set up the wedding, which will be held in the main courtyard of the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, an historic convent, primarily used as a venue and museum. The weather looks really promising for the weekend, and a small – okay, well – large part of Jughead is super excited about being given expressed permission from the seating gods to sit all night next to Betty. 

He tells himself that he’s mostly grateful of this because Dylan will also be seated at the same table and he can’t stand the way that guy looks at Betty; like she’s a tasty little snack. 

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed that she’s _not_ a snack, it’s just, well, it’s _Betty._ He’s known her for his whole life and he can’t help but feel protective of her beautiful innocence. His brain keeps reminding him of her actions towards him at the bachelor party and how she _looked_ \- something that is going to live in his fantasies forever more – but then he thinks about Charles and he knows he needs to crush his feelings a bit (a whole lot). 

As he walks through the venue he can see that Betty is clearly present, as the whole bachelor party stands around her. Kevin and Charles are making out while Veronica and JB are off to the side talking to someone. He casts his eyes to the heavens as if to provide him with the mental fortitude to survive this night and the rest of the weekend before his flight. 

His heart clenches a little in his chest when he thinks of leaving Riverdale, well, leaving _her_ again, but he knows that he is too stubborn to just change his flight without a good reason.

Before going into the fray, he walks up to the bar and orders himself a drink. He wants to get a row of shots to just knock himself out, like he did the last Christmas he saw her, but the thought of her disapproving of him is almost too much to bear. 

“Scotch on the rocks, please.”

He watches the bartender move around as if in a trance. He nods and points to the brand he wants: Talisker. When the cold, angular glass slides into his hand, he feels instantly calmed. He watches the amber liquid swirl at the bottom of the glass, the alcohol creating legs down the facets. 

He sighs (a bit wistfully, if he’s honest with himself). 

“Big sigh there, Jug.” He hears a voice behind him and turns to the smiling face of Charles. Jughead sighs again for good measure. 

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“About what?” Charles leans on the bar next to him and looks into his eyes. Charles’s eyes are impossibly green and they remind him of Betty’s. He supposes it should be the other way around, because he’s known Charles longer, but Betty has occupied his mind for as long as he can remember, so he goes with it. 

“Oh you know, work, wedding, going back to D.C. without you.” He shrugs as if it is all no big deal.

“Well, you don’t have to go back to D.C. yet, I mean, you can just take some more time off and hang out here. Since when do you get to spend time with your family in Riverdale over summer?”

“You forget that my parents and yours are leaving Sunday night for their Alaskan holiday,” Jughead points out. “So no one will be around.”

Charles grins at him, “Yeah no one except JB… and Betty.”

Jughead watches Charles carefully for any hint that he may know a wisp of depravity of the emotions that Jughead feels for Betty, but Charles’s smile is open and sweet. 

_There is no way he would be so forgiving if he knew how much I wanted her._

Jughead laughs uncomfortably, “I don’t think the girls would want me around, cramping their style.”

Charles gives him an incredulous look, “Honestly Jug, they would totally be fine. Just stay for a while, I’m sure JB and Betty would love you to.”

His heart is in his throat at the thought of her asking him to stay around and the _mere anticipation_ of being wanted by her. 

He looks over to where she is standing and sees her laughing with Dylan and Kevin, probably about some fancy joke the hot doctor just said. The jealousy that floods his veins is so visceral and raw he almost gasps with the sheer power of it. He clutches the glass in his hand and takes another sip. 

“Everything okay there Jug?” Charles voice is light and his smile is gentle. 

Jughead can’t stop looking at her radiance. “I can’t believe that Kevin invited her here. I can’t believe you’re okay to have her around all the guys.”

Charles’s expression goes from concerned to deeply amused in a heartbeat. “She’s an adult, Jughead, she can do what she wants. I’m not her father. Plus even dad always lets Betty do what she wants anyway. Have you ever tried saying no to her?”

Jughead is almost ready to admit that he stopped himself from having sex with Betty the other night and is very pleased that he said no to her once in his life. But then, he feels the fool because of how much he wanted to do it. Why is he constantly fighting with himself?

Jughead opts to choke on his scotch and Charles pats him on the back as he wheezes. 

“Come on, come join the group, you can’t be skulking around here; we need to set up this pool tournament,” Charles insists, pulling at his sleeve. Jughead sighs and follows him.

“Jughead!” A chorus of voices greet him as he breaks into the circle. 

“So good to see you,” Betty says, her eyes locking on to his. He can’t miss the fact that in the Whyte Wyrm, Betty really stands out. She’s wearing a pink skirt and a denim sleeveless shirt. Her legs look impossibly long and smooth and he tries not to think about how he wants to run his tongue from her ankle to her inner thigh and just watch her come undone. 

“And you,” he says back, voice rough. Her smile is luminous. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Dylan’s voice cuts through their moment and Betty’s eyes shift from his to Dylan’s. Jughead reminds himself that Kevin and Charles would not forgive him for punching Dylan (without very good reason) before the wedding. 

She smiles beatifically at Dylan and coos, “I would love that. Could I please have a cosmo?”

Jughead snorts, doubting that anyone in the Whyte Wyrm has ever made a cosmo in their life and Betty shoots him a sardonic look before saying with biting sweetness, “Unless you want to get it for me, Jughead?”

He knows a challenge when he hears one. “Of course Betty. It would be my pleasure.”

She smirks at him, and there is a glint in her eyes that makes him shiver. He feels his mouth go dry as he stares at her, helplessly lost in her gaze. Betty licks her lips and he feels himself get hard in a hot second. 

_Fuck me, please._

“Anyone else want a cosmo?” He asks in a gravelly tone, but he can’t break eye contact with her.

“I’ll have one,” says Kevin, looking enthused. 

“Me too,” Dylan adds; clapping him on the shoulder so hard he starts. 

Suddenly Jughead, hard and frustrated beyond fucking measure, is buying a round of cosmos for every man, woman and dog and cursing Betty Cooper’s inescapable charm. She joins him while he waits up at the bar. 

“Is this whole week going to be defined by me buying you pink drinks?” He jokes darkly at her. 

She runs her hand through her hair and he wishes he could follow the motion with his own hands. She smirks at him and bites her pouty, glossy lip. He watches her eyelashes flutter in the dim lights and all the air fucks-off out of his lungs. In fact, all the oxygen in his body now belongs to her. 

She tosses her hair and says tartly, “Well, you won’t let it be defined by anything else, Jughead, so think of this as the bed in which you’ve chosen to lay.”

_What is that supposed to mean?_

“What do you mean?” He asks, watching the bartender start on his six cosmos.

Her lips curve into a wicked smile. “Well, you did stop us from going further the other night. Your choice.”

_Does that mean she still wants me to now?_

“You were drunk and emotional!” He exclaims, feeling defensive. Of course he had wanted to, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her. 

She gives him a scathing look that flays him raw. “Well, now, we are even at the very least. A settled score, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, panicked. Is he missing something incredibly crucial in his memory? Have he and Betty kissed before and he just can’t remember it? What is she talking about?

Betty tilts her head to the side and bites her lip again. He wishes she would stop doing that because it sends him out of his mind. “Oh,” she says, “Do you actually not remember?”

“Remember what?” Jughead asks, desperately.

Betty smiles slightly, but it’s a bit concerned. “Nothing,” she says dismissively, but he’s not going to let this go.

He places his hands on her waist (to prevent her from moving he tells himself) and pulls her against him. He almost purrs in satisfaction in response to the heady feeling of Betty pressed against him. 

She squirms a little under his hands, and he’s not going to lie, it’s insanely arousing. The glare she gives him as she struggles in his arms is _thrilling._ He’s always loved it when sweet Betty Cooper bares her teeth. 

“Tell me,” He growls at her, enjoying the way she responds to his voice. 

She looks up at him; deer caught in headlights. She looks pained as she sighs deeply. “Fine, but promise me that you won’t regret it.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t promise anything. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She looks a bit like she is going to cry of frustration and he waits, watching her. “The other night wasn’t the first time that we kissed.”

Even though he had been expecting this, it still hits him like a tonne of bricks to the chest. How could he not remember kissing _her?_ He wants to punch himself. “What?”

She flinches at sound of his voice, almost sibilant. He feels bad, and wonders if her comment about him regretting it was in response to kissing her. 

“Sorry Betty,” he says, forcing his voice to be kinder, “I’m sorry I don’t remember. Could you please explain what you mean?”

Her expression is less concerned now, so he just watches as she sighs again. Her lips twitch slightly and she says, “We kissed two Christmases ago?”

“What?” He repeats, incredulous. 

“Yes Jughead,” she snaps, clearly annoyed at him now. “You were so drunk, and I have no idea why you decided that Christmas was the best time for it, and then I took you upstairs to your bedroom to tuck you in.”

He’s heard this from Charles, so he just nods, willing for her to continue. 

She blushes slightly and he wonders what he did to make her look so embarrassed. He already wants to tear himself to shreds. Or better yet, have her tear him to shreds… (but physically, not emotionally). 

“You were shivering a bit, so I went to make you a cup of tea and a hot water bottle, you know, to warm you up?” She is looking at him expectantly, but he had no idea what she wants him to say so he just stays silent. 

“Anyway, I put the tea and hot water bottle next to you and then you kissed me,” she trails off, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Wait, what?” Jughead says vehemently, “No, no, Betty Cooper, you can’t just tell me a whole goddamn slice of my memory is missing and not provide me with intimate details.”

The bartender clears his throat and gestures to the cosmopolitans he has made. Jughead glares at the offending drinks and back to Betty. 

“Find a quiet table Miss Cooper,” he says in a low voice, “You and I have things to discuss.”

She looks a little flushed as she picks up one of the cosmos and makes her way to find them a table. He breathes out a long sigh of relief.

“Women, eh?” The bartender says in a commiserating tone. Jughead just shakes his head and hands out the drinks to the bachelor party who are all deep into the pool tournament, making bets and heckling one another. 

He spies Betty sitting by herself at a secluded table and goes over to join her. Her cheeks are pink. 

“Okay,” he says, dying to know what he’s done to make her blush. “Tell me what’s up? I need every little detail,” he adds in a low voice. Betty visibly swallows. 

She seems to be struggling with an internal conflict and then relents, “Fine, but I am going to keep my eyes closed while I tell you so I don’t get embarrassed.”

Why is she embarrassed? It is his memory that is missing! Of his first kiss with Betty fucking Cooper. He wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. 

“So, I put the tea down at your bedside table,” she whispers with her eyes closed. “You were in bed at this point, and although you were shivering before, you seemed to be fine and had actually – ah,”

She falters, and he silently wills her to go on. 

He can see how smooth her throat is and wants to kiss it, “You had taken off your shirt.”

She licks her lips slightly and suddenly he’s hard again, yet mortified by the whole scenario. He can see the situation in his mind’s eye: drunken shirtless guy coercing little Betty Cooper into bed and shudders.

She swallows visibly, and continues, “You – um – reached out for me and-,”

“How did I reach out for you?” He asks, his voice cracking traitorously. 

She blushes and he can’t take his eyes off her. He wants to reach out to her now but remains immobile, just staring at her. 

“You um, called for me and grabbed my wrist.” She opens her eyes slightly and looks for his arm. He gives it to her and she encloses her slender fingers around his wrist. She’s brushing her fingertips along his inner wrist and how _the fuck_ does he suddenly have an erogenous zone there?

“What did I say?” he asks, roughly. 

She flushes and her nails dig in to his skin. He’s the devil, he must be, because it’s almost like he is encouraging Betty Cooper to fucking _talk him to a climax_ at the goddamn Whyte Wyrm. As soon as he thinks that, he immediately wants to deny it, but he knows that it’s the truth.

“You said: “Betty, my gorgeous Betty, let me kiss you.”” Betty blushes anew and he is both pleased and humiliated with his past, drunken self. 

“Then you pulled me towards you…”

_No, no, please tell me I didn’t…_

“And slid on top of me…”

_Fuck no, this is horrible!_

“And then…”

He watches her with a combination of sinful arousal and disgust at himself as Betty traces her free hand down her cheek, over her jaw, down the line her smooth neck until her fingertips brush against the swell of her breast.

_I am disgraceful! This is the fucking worst._

“I what?!” he freaks, taking a swig of his drink for solace.

Betty flushes again, and the colour spreads down her chest. He lets his gaze trace the slight bit of cleavage he can see under the denim shirt. He almost groans aloud at his perverted behaviour.

“You, um, brushed your fingers along my breast and said…” she pauses and tilts her head down so her fluffy hair falls forward covering her face. 

“You said: _Betty, I have been wanting to do this all night_.” She grits her teeth, digging her nails into his wrist and says, “Then you sort of grabbed my breast…”

“I what?!” he repeats, knowing now that the first part of his fantasies of her from that night were at least _very, very real._

“Mmm yes,” she hums and the sound vibrates through him. “But that was more or less it, I suppose.”

“More or less it?” His voice sounds strangled.

“What? Not enough for you?” She sasses him. 

“Ahh Betts, come on,” he growls, simultaneously aroused and hating himself, “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m feeling like a real scumbag here okay? I don’t remember this in enough detail and I’m dying to make sure I didn’t hurt you.”

Betty lets out a long, slow breath. She opens her eyes now and he can see the liquid desire in them. Despite whatever heinous thing he did in his past, the way she is looking at him now makes him think that she wants to do it all over again.

“You didn’t hurt me, Juggie,” she whispers, eyes dark with some unnamed emotion swirling in them.

“Good,” he says, voice cracking. Her lips twitch and she watches him with a calculating expression. 

“Did you try and stop me?” he asks, still appalled with himself. 

“No,” she smirks and he feels a charge of electricity shoot through him. 

“No?” he breathes, and he knows how desperate he is to hear what she has to say. 

She lets out a shaky little gasp and tightens her grip on his arm; he supposes this will have to do. “No, Juggie, I didn’t try to stop you.”

“Why not?” he asks, hoping despite himself. 

She glares at him, and it’s fucking sexy as sin. She leans forward and reaches up, fingers tangling in the curls of his fringe. His whole body is on lock-down as he watches her expression go from frustrated to utterly entertained. She grips his hair tightly and he gasps, feeling the sensation all over his body.

“Silly me. It seems I’m here thinking that you are some sort of detective? Figure it out, Special Agent Jughead Jones,” the vixen purrs at him and he feels her words caress him deliciously. 

_Fuck!_

He is insane for wanting to ravish her tight little body against literally _any_ available surface. He looks around blindly, as if assessing his options and then realises again where the fuck they are: at the Whyte Wyrm with Charles and his goddamn sister. 

_Calm down!_

“Are you okay with it?” He double-checks and then hastily adds as she glares at him again, “Now, I mean?”

She rolls her eyes and says, “Yes, I am fine Jughead. I’m not going to break from a little tumble under the sheets. Seriously, I am not made of porcelain. I do, however, wish that you remembered it. I’ve been worried all these years that you’ve been embarrassed about it.”

He chuckles softly and admits, “I am embarrassed about it. But only because I wish I remembered.”

Betty’s eyes sparkle at his words.

“Well,” she says, taking her hand off his wrist and crossing her arms over her chest, “Now I know why you didn’t respond to my text message.”

“Betty,” he says sincerely, cursing his past, confused self, “I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you.”

“It’s fine,” she says, standing up. “You’re notoriously bad with social media. We all joke about it.”

“Where are you going?” Jughead asks, alarmed. _Stay with me!_

Betty gives him an arched look and smirks, “I’m going to give you some head space, so that you can reconcile with your forgotten memories and try remember what it’s like to have your hand all over my breast.”

He splutters (masculinely) into his drink as she strides past.

~~~

Betty rolls her shoulders as she walks away from Jughead. She feels like she has been nudging him excruciatingly slowly to the edge. The next time they kiss, he will be desperate for more and not stopping her in her tracks. 

She’s too smart not to know that he’s stalling, probably working up the courage to tell Charles. If he has been feeling like this for a while, then this behavioural pattern is too ingrained in him and she needs to snap him out of it the way Veronica snapped JB out of her own mind: with force and pressure. She surmises that he will keep trying to deny her until she makes it physically, emotionally and mentally unbearable for him to ignore her. Then and only then will he speak to Charles. 

But, Betty is incredibly good at getting what she wants and she’s willing to play the long game. 

Wanting to put some distance between that conversation and her feelings of both Jughead frustration (which are a combination of sexual and oh-my-god-and-here-I-thought-Jughead-was-smart frustrations), she walks over to where JB and Veronica are chatting by the old defunct jukebox. 

“Hey Mrs Jones,” JB jokes as she approaches. She barely rolls her eyes at this anymore. “Did you know that Reggie and Archie are here? Remember them from school? They just went to grab a drink at the bar.”

Veronica snorts at her wide-eyed expression, “Oh don’t worry Betty, they’ve totally grown up now. Why, Reggie barely hit on me.”

“Yeah,” Betty says, gesturing between them, “That’s because you two are practically wrapped around each other.”

JB’s smile morphs into a smirk and she teases, “You want to jump in on this?”

Veronica doesn’t give her a moment to protest and pulls her into a big bear hug. “We love you Betty Cooper.”

Betty hugs her beautiful, best friends and sighs. 

“Mmm, I’d like to get in on that action,” says an obnoxious voice behind her. Betty would recognise that particular sleazy manner of speech anywhere.

“Totally grown up now, huh?” Betty quips and Veronica giggles. 

She steps back from the embrace and turns around, folding her arms, “Reginald Mantle, as I live and breathe. And Archibald Andrews.”

Reggie and Archie caused her a lot of angst and frustration in high school as she constantly had to try and get out of awkward situations they kept trying to put her in: seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, cornering her after football games near the locker rooms. She spent a lot of her later years evading them and writing sassy columns about them in the Blue & Gold. 

“Elizabeth,” Reggie croons, eyes raking over her. She can feel him undressing her with his eyes and rolls her own in response. “Your legs are honestly the best things I have ever seen in my life.”

“I made them especially for you Reginald,” she says with a bite in her tone. She’s still a bit annoyed with her whole encounter with Jughead and snaps a little more than she would do ordinarily. She takes a step back and her back presses into something hard and warm.

She feels a hand on her waist, fingers tightening on her hip. 

“Is this guy bothering you, Betty?” Jughead says in a low voice behind her. Betty feels her heart leap erratically in her chest. 

She turns her face to look up at him and sees his jaw set and his blue eyes angry. Is it wrong that she finds herself turned on by this? Also, she doesn’t want to point out to Jughead, but she’s perfectly fine to handle the likes of Reggie and Archie by herself, let alone with JB standing there, staring daggers at them.

“Reggie,” JB says warningly, “Don’t be a tool, or I will punch you again.” 

Jughead’s body vibrates in laughter behind her, “Oh is this the guy that you knocked out that one time JB?”

Reggie glares at Jughead and JB, and says, “Is this your super old brother JB? What’s he doing slumming with college kids?” He looks down at Jughead’s hand resting possessively on Betty’s hip and sneers, “Cradle snatcher.”

Betty moves forward and before she fully comprehends what is happening, she slaps Reggie across the face. 

She can hear the blood pounding in her ears as Reggie rights himself and gives her a grin. JB and Veronica are cheering her. 

“That was hot,” Reggie croons, “Want to do that again but without our clothes?”

Everyone around the circle tenses and Betty just sighs dramatically, “Oh man Reggie, you have literally not changed a bit.”

He shoots her a wounded look. “Have so! I’m now playing college football on a scholarship and majoring in finance.”

Betty snorts, inelegantly, “Yeah, explain to me how that’s different aside from more concussions.”

Reggie just laughs at her. “Fair enough. You’ve changed though. How is it possible for you to get sexy?”

“Hey, watch it!” Both Jughead and JB say simultaneously. JB grins widely at Jughead over Betty’s head. 

Reggie rolls his eyes and says, mostly to Archie, “Remember she was like always very pretty? But like angelically beautiful.” He turns back to Betty and says, “I don’t remember you being sexy though.”

Betty shakes her head; Reggie is such a dickhead. “Well, we’ve all grown up, haven’t we?”

Reggie grins at her through his red cheek. 

“You guys are idiots,” Veronica says in a high voice. 

Reggie rounds on JB, and asks, chuckling, “So how are you and the Serpents going?”

JB smirks, twisting her fingers through Veronica’s hair obsessively. Betty sighs longingly; it’s so adorable. “We are going very well Reggie, we just got signed.”

“Aw congrats!” Reggie looks genuinely happy for JB, and Bettys supposes she can forgive him for being a creep. 

“Thanks,” JB says, pleased, “We just released an EP and we are doing a show here shortly. You and Archie should come along. I think Cheryl will be there too, remember her from school?”

Reggie snorts, “Do I remember her? Yeah we are practically BFFs, girl.”

Betty giggles, trying to imagine Reggie and Cheryl hanging out. Maybe there are many mirrors involved in their catch-ups. 

“For sure, I’ll definitely come along. Love me some Serpent tunes,” Reggie says, smiling. “Arch, you wanna come?”

Archie nods slightly, but his eyes are still on Veronica. 

“Are you and JB together now?” Archie speaks for the first time. Despite JB teasing Betty about Archie, she is fairly certain that he’s held a candle for Veronica forever. He looks fairly put out by the idea of Veronica being with JB.

Betty watches her friends’ faces. Veronica flushes and JB is smug. 

JB turns to look at Veronica with love in her eyes, “Yeah we are.”

Veronica makes a small breathy sound and JB angles her face towards Veronica’s pulling her into a passionate kiss. 

Reggie, the pervert he is, whistles. 

JB gives him the finger, but still manages to kiss Veronica into breathlessness. 

“So is your new track “River Vixen” about Veronica?” Reggie asks.

JB and Veronica come up for air. Veronica looks at JB, who is blushing. “Uh, yeah mostly.”

“Mostly?” Reggie grins, “Like the part about running your tongue between her breasts? Yeah, I can understand your scream singing, JB.”

That line sounds eerily familiar to Betty, but she can’t place it. 

“Oh so you are a fan,” JB says smoothly a smirk alighting her face. 

Reggie laughs, “So it is about Veronica?”

JB rubs the back of her neck stiffly, in a similar nervous tell to Jughead’s. “It’s kind of about Veronica, Betty and Cheryl. Everyone on the Serpent crew is obsessed with at least one of them, except Fangs because, you know, he’s an asexual aromantic, but he’s also not a songwriter. I am clearly obsessed with Veronica.”

Veronica coos delightedly and pulls JB’s head towards hers to kiss her again. 

Charles appears at Betty’s side and says, “Oh good, that’s finally happened. The Joneses are terribly obvious with their crushes.”

Betty wants to turn around and observe Jughead’s reaction, but instead just keeps impossibly still as if trying to listen for his subsequent aneurysm. Jughead is silent behind her. 

“Betty,” Kevin says to her, “Darling, do you want to play pool? Dylan just thrashed me and he needs an opponent.”

Betty turns to face Jughead, Charles, Kevin and Dylan, the latter who is waving around a pool cue in excitement. 

“You play, Betty?” Dylan asks with a cheeky grin. 

“I’ve dabbled one or twice,” she lies and Kevin gives her an approving nod. “I am in college you know.”

Dylan smiles and crooks his head in the direction of the table. Harper, Tim and Bryan are standing around, setting the table up. 

She walks past Kevin, who gives her a discreet and encouraging high hive. 

As she passes Jughead, she lets her knuckles brush absently along his chest. When she hears his small intake of breath, she looks up to catch his eyes, “Want to come and watch me fail spectacularly?”

To Betty, it looks like Jughead is gritting his teeth when he nods in her direction. 

_Come on, you hot, stubborn idiot._

She decides to go for it and grabs his hand to pull him along behind her. 

“I’m watching,” Reggie calls after her, “If it means my dreams of seeing Betty Cooper bent over a table come true, then I am so there.”

Betty shakes her head and holds Jughead’s hand tighter as he tenses. Reggie is a harmless loud mouth; he’s all bark and no bite. As much as it is such a turn on having Jughead all protective, she thinks he should be doing less of that and more sweeping her off her feet, shirtless. She wonders if there is an anonymous suggestion box that could reach him. 

Tim hands her a pool cue with a smile. She searches for the chalk and prepares. 

“I have to warn you Betty,” Dylan purrs at her, “I am exceptionally good at pool.”

She resists the urge to smirk at his cockiness. “Be gentle with me,” she begs, eyes wide, “I am pretty new to this.”

“No promises, gorgeous,” he says and circles the table, eyes on her. Jughead has his arms folded and he is looking furious. She blows a kiss in his direction and is immensely pleased when he starts, alarmed.

“Do you want to break, beautiful?” Dylan asks with a smirk. 

“Yes, let me give it a shot!” Betty exclaims and walks over to line up her first shot of the night. 

“Want me to show you how to hold the cue?” Dylan asks at her shoulder. She turns to him and bats her eyelashes, watching as Dylan visibly swallows. 

“Dylan,” Jughead’s voice cuts through their interaction, breaking the sexual tension Betty worked to create. His hand comes down possessively on her hip again and she shivers in excitement. Jughead’s voice is raw and it sounds like there is a river of fury coursing beneath his words when he says, “If anyone is going to teach Betty how to play pool, it’s going to be me.”

_Mmm Special Agent, are you going to show me how to hold this really large length of wood?_

A muscle in Dylan’s jaw twitches and he glares at Jughead. 

“Problem, gents?” Kevin says icily. Charles hovers by his shoulder, looking curiously at the situation. 

“Oh no problem,” Betty says sweetly, “We were just deciding who is going to play whom first.” She smirks and says insistently, “Why don’t you two just play each other since you both want to tussle so badly?”

Jughead and Dylan both give her wounded looks. 

“No,” Jughead shakes his head stubbornly, jaw clenched. She wonders how he can still get the words to sound so normal. “I want to play with you, Betty.”

She feels a liquid pulse inside her at his words. _Oh yes please… play with me._

“Juggie, I want you to play with me too,” she purrs and watches as his eyes darken in response. “But Kevin asked me to play with Dylan, and I can’t deny the groom.”

Kevin’s expression is highly amused as he looks at the two of them. “You know what? This is somehow even better than what I had envisaged. I’m into it. Jughead and Betty should play. At the groom’s behest.”

Dylan makes a noise of protest that everyone ignores.

“Kev,” Charles says softly, but his eyes are sparkling mischievously. “Should we insist upon a wager? Considering we are placing bets on this?”

Kevin’s face splits into a shark-like grin. “Undoubtedly. What do you have to wager, you two?”

Betty shrugs carelessly, “I don’t have much money – poor student and all that – so you might have to spot me?”

Jughead cuts in, voice hard, “No way. Betty’s never played pool before, it’s a bit mean to make her bet against me.”

Betty turns her innocent eyes to him. “Oh it’s fine Juggie, I honestly don’t mind! It’s just a bit of fun.” 

Kevin rubs his hands together in glee. “Let me decide for you. Okay, Jughead, if you win, we will all buy you an expensive glass of whiskey.”

Kevin turns to Charles and says cryptically, “Well it’s never going to happen otherwise, right?”

Charles nods in encouragement, his arms snaking around Kevin and eyes on the ceiling as if he has spotted some really fascinating ancient scripture in the polystyrene. 

Kevin points dramatically between the two of them. “Betty, if you win, Jughead has to kiss you.”

~~~

Jughead feels himself go hot all over at the thought of this bet, despite it being entirely stacked against him in the wrong way. He wonders idly if there is any way he can lose at pool just so that he can kiss Betty. She seems so placid with the idea, just smiling serenely in his direction as if waiting for him to say something. 

Her words from earlier come back to him: _Figure it out, Special Agent Jughead Jones._

“Uh,” Jughead starts and then continues smoothly, “I’m fine with it if Betty is.”

The corner of her lips twitch and he wonders what she is thinking. Is she interested in seeing if he will tank the game just for a chance to kiss her? Because he so would, it’s just that… Charles? Everyone would know? 

His excuses seem kind of paltry as he stares at her hungry expression.

Betty grins widely and shakes her head in amusement. “Kevin, you absolute dog!” 

Kevin puts on an innocent face and shrugs carelessly, waving his hands in a very camp gesture. “Oh you flatter me so much, my darling.”

Charles snorts and then tries to cover up the sound with a cough. 

_What am I missing here?_

“Well,” Betty says, wide-eyed. Jughead doesn’t realise it, but he’s been holding his breath the whole time. She bites her lip and says casually, “I guess we shake on it, Juggie?”

She holds out her hand and gives him a look that sets his whole body alight with desire. When her hand slips into his, he has to tense his whole body to stop himself from drawing her into an embrace and making out with her in front of everyone at the Whyte Wyrm. 

“And may the odds be ever in your favour,” Kevin says cryptically and Betty looks like she is trying hard not to giggle. 

She turns to him and tosses her blonde hair back. He wants to lick her neck and run his fingers through her golden tresses. 

“Well Juggie,” Betty says sweetly, “Do you want to show me what position I should take?”

_Every and any position you want, Betty Cooper._

Jughead doesn’t know if she’s choosing the precise set of words and casual touches that are driving him insane or of it’s just his over-active imagination, but he’s just hard for thinking about pressing up against her back. 

“Of course,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound strangled. 

She leans on the edge of the pool table and he thinks someone could probably use that exact image to sell a shit load of literally any product because it’s so sexy. He wonders if he will just lose for being so distracted by her. Betty’s gaze follows him as he walks to stand behind her. 

Kevin and Charles watch him with amusement gleaming in their eyes and Dylan looks pissed as hell, but who cares about that guy? Jughead wonders what exactly Charles and Kevin think he is going to do (other than be super respectful to Betty and try not to undress her with his eyes or any other way in public)?

He is careful not to let his body brush against hers as he manoeuvres her (very smooth) limbs into position. 

“Slightly wider stance Betts,” he murmurs in her ear as he checks her positioning. 

Betty turns slightly, and her face his alarmingly close to his. She looks confused. “You mean, spread my legs?” she asks softly and the look in her eyes is pure innocence. He stifles a groan and feels his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Yes,” he confirms stiffly (in all senses: confirmed). 

Betty shifts underneath him and her hip brushes against his erection. “Like that?” she whispers and the look in her eyes is mischievous. He wonders if she is playing him more than the game and if that’s her tactic. Whatever is going on, he’s into it.

“Perfect,” he croons back at her, because he can’t help it. He watches colour rise to her cheeks and feels deplorable and vindicated in one fell swoop. 

“Thanks Juggie,” she purrs, “I might win now and then you can kiss me.”

He lets her go before he does something reckless. Like her. She smirks. 

Jughead watches in abject shock as Betty Cooper changes her entire position from the decent stance he helped her with, to something a little different; she’s more streamlined and there is a deeper bend at her waist. It looks like she is splayed across the pool table and he has to look away from the curve of her ass because it’s fucking distracting. 

Or not, because then she could easily win. 

Then, Betty breaks. It’s an objectively excellent shot and she gets two stripes in immediately. Betty jumps up in surprise and claps her hands. “Thanks Juggie, I think I did alright!”

“Yeah, you did wonderfully,” he smiles at the look of pleasure on her face. 

As the game unfolds Jughead increasingly feels like the bet has been stacked, because despite being allegedly a “beginner”, Betty is slowly grinding him into dust. 

Her shots are just _too_ good to be beginner’s luck even coupled with his own levels of distraction from watching delectable body curve and bend to take each turn. 

Betty keeps making all these little comments that drive him crazy throughout. She takes a shot and says something like: “Oh sorry I have no idea what I’m doing!” and “Oh, shoot! I think I pocketed the wrong one!” But in reality she’s expertly pulverising him with an angelic smile on her face. 

He tells himself he’s only paying attention to the game (and intermittently glaring at Reggie Mantle who is catcalling Betty from the sidelines. At one point JB clocks Reggie with her elbow and sends Jughead a thumbs up), but really he’s watching the line of Betty’s legs under that short skirt of hers as she leans over the pool table taking shot after shot. 

As she stands Jughead sees a little gleam in her eyes that he knows all too well; this is the Betty Cooper that knows her position of power and uses it to her advantage. 

Precious little Betty Cooper is _playing_ with him. Jughead watches as she looks up at him and says, “I think that’s good, right?” then smiles sweetly as if she knows exactly what kind of havoc she’s wreaking on his poor heart and ragged libido.

Is it wrong that he finds her act both hot and endearing? 

Watching Betty use her beauty as a weapon to distract and destroy him in a game of pool all that she can get him to kiss her is fucking hot as all hell. He’s so impressed and wildly turned on. 

She looks up and catches his eye. He feels the familiar swooping sensation and he wants to lose himself in her gaze. He smirks and nods at her, acknowledging her skill and her answering smile is radiant. 

When she says, “Oh I think it’s just the eight ball for me left?” he has to do a double take. There are still several coloured balls on the table, but they are all his; Betty has one move left before she’s destroyed him. 

He nods and she licks her lips, moving around to shoot with her left hand. She stands in front of him and curves over the pool table in a way that exposes the smooth skin of her neck under the low down-lights of the Whyte Wyrm. Jughead is insane for wanting to tear off her top, watch the buttons fly off and her eyes widen in surprise as he lowers his mouth to her perfect breasts and drives her wild with his tongue. 

He shakes himself from his fantasy and watches her take the shot. It’s beautiful, and she pockets the ball with ease. 

At that moment, in the dingy Whyte Wyrm, watching Betty bend over a table with a cheeky grin on her face, Jughead _finally_ admits to himself that he has to figure out an acceptable way to stay in Riverdale to be close to her. He’s not ready to let it end here without giving himself a proper chance.

“I think I just destroyed you, Juggie,” Betty smirks, tapping her index finger against his chest lightly. The contact sends shivers through him. 

Jughead chuckles ruefully because it’s too real in all senses. “That’s for sure, Betts.”

She raises both eyebrows and giggles. 

_Do it, Jones! Reach out and hold her like you’ve been dying to._

Swallowing every single protest (he’s become very adept at protesting over the years), Jughead surprises everyone in the Whyte Wyrm by possessively drawing Betty into a hug. She gasps softly at his chest and looks up at him, green eyes shining.

_What, didn’t expect me to finally get my shit together, Betty?_

Because he’s been dying to, Jughead croons softly at his love, mouth moments from hers, “So Betts, where do you want me to kiss you?”

She lets out a breathy little gasp and swallows visibly, eyes on his lips before she says, “Oh Juggie, anywhere on my body is fine!”

He thankfully stops himself from spluttering at River Vixen Cooper’s words. 

“I meant, should we maybe, uh, take this outside so we aren’t scrutinised by every single person here?” Jughead says bluntly, looking around at the faces alight with anticipation as they stare at him and Betty. 

Catching Kevin’s expression and raised glass of champagne (ever classy, even in the Whyte Wyrm, that Kevin) he now has no doubt that he orchestrated all of this deliberately. Jughead is impressed with his moxie despite how hard he got played. There is also a small part of him that is relieved; if Kevin knows then surely Charles does too? Jughead knows he needs to talk to Charles about Betty at some point… he’s never going to feel completely comfortable without knowing that Charles accepts him and Betty together. 

“Mmm, you can take me outside,” River Vixen Cooper says and he groans, accepting that he will never be in control of any situation that involves Betty Cooper. 

Jughead gently tucks his precious Betty under his arm, holding her tightly to him as they walk outside the front of the Whyte Wyrm and down the side of the car park.

He’s still holding her against him as he turns to face her. Her eyes gleam as they flicker over his body and he feels like she’s undressing him. 

“You’re very good at pool,” Jughead blurts out, because he can’t think of anything witty to say, but feels like he has to comment on her immeasurable skill. 

Betty grins, “Oh I know. You were never going to win.”

She pauses for a moment and then looks at him, concerned. “Oh… I’m sorry; do you feel coerced or pressured? I didn’t even-,”

Jughead needs her to stop talking and stop thinking like that. He’s wild for his mouth on hers, so pulls her against him and captures her lips in a searing kiss, muffling her apologies with his own. 

Betty makes a sound of surprise and pleasure against him and her hands grasp at his back in desperation. He feels her fingernails digging into his muscles and makes a pathetic, groaning sound. 

_Holy fuck, Betty Cooper fucking wants me. How in sweet hell did this happen?_

He’s hard and gasping as he nibbles at her beautiful, pouty lips and is rewarded by her keening against him, her humid breath both sweet and intoxicating and he is getting drunk from just breathing her in. 

Betty throws herself completely into the kiss, plying his mouth open and when their tongues touch he feels their collective groan ripple through him, sending tingling shivers all over his skin and lancing him with white-hot arousal. 

Her leg is between his and she’s grinding herself against his erection; he’s gagging for more and desperate to take this further. His hands fist into her hair and he ravishes her pretty mouth, hot all over for the delicious mewling sounds he elicits from her; she’s perfection.

It is as a bit of a shock when they hit the brick wall of the Whyte Wyrm and he pulls back slightly to check if she’s okay. Betty’s eyes are dark and glazed and she has this delicate flushed look that makes him fucking swoon. 

_I made Betty Cooper look so deliciously aroused. Me!_

He presses their foreheads together and strokes her hair gently back from her face. She smirks at him and trails her hands around his back over his abs to tug at his jeans. He’s on fire for the look in her eyes but there is no way he’s going to _make love_ to his dream girl in the car park of the Whyte Wyrm… at least not the first time. She deserves everything.

“No, Betts, stop,” he gasps wildly. “Please.”

“Why Juggie, don’t you want me?” she moans her ridiculous sentiment, her hot breath ghosting his mouth and he wants to drown himself in that sensation. 

“Betts, don’t say such things,” he pants breathlessly, insanely hard, “Of course I fucking want you. I’m crazy about you.”

“Then for all that is holy, why are you stopping me?” she pouts and then glares at him. “I consent Jughead, goddammit! Touch me now!”

He’s obsessed with how amazing she is. 

“Fuck Betts,” Jughead swears, stilling every muscle in his body so he doesn’t just snap to do as she commands, “Seriously I want to… I’m dying for wanting you so badly… it’s just….”

Betty pins him under her unwavering stare, panting desperately. 

He chuckles softly and runs his fingers through her soft golden hair, marvelling at the fine, shimmering strands. She is still glaring at him and it’s fucking hot. Who knew she would be so bossy and insistent? 

He tries to explain so he doesn’t seem like such a wet towel, “Call me old-fashioned or foolishly sentimental, but I’d kind of like our first time to be in a bed… and not up against the wall of the Whyte Wyrm parking lot….”

“Oh,” she breathes and he moans as her breath curls on his lips. Her green eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, that’s romantic actually.”

“No need to sound so stunned!” he grouches, feeling a little hurt. Sure, he’s never been the most romantic of guys, but that doesn’t mean he can’t at least try for the most perfect girl in existence and the love of his life.

She giggles and he stops her from making fun of him by kissing her until she’s gasping and her nails are scrabbling at his abdominals again. 

_Fuck, I love that I have the power to render her speechless._

“Okay, so… at the wedding?” Betty implores softly, her eyes molten. “I could come over tonight though, it’s just we won’t have a lot of time because I have to get up in-,” she checks her phone and grimaces, “- eww gross - four hours to help mom with the venue.”

Jughead brushes her cheeks with his thumbs, feeling impossibly light and as if his whole body is alight with tiny electromagnetic Eddy-currents. 

“I love where your head is at Betts,” he smirks and she grins at him, pleased. “I really do. But I’ve been thinking about this for too long for us to only have a short time together, so what’s two more sleeps?”

“Ah Jones, you unbelievable masochist,” Betty giggles and fuck it if she isn’t completely correct in her assessment of him. 

He growls and kisses her again. “I fucking know, I just want to-,”

“Do me right?” she sasses, but her eyes are unbelievably soft and her expression is tender as she looks at him. 

It feels like she sees him.

_Yes! Love me, Betty Cooper. I’ve always been yours._

Jughead makes a pathetic little sound and Betty smiles indulgently, winding her hands around his neck and drawing him into a kiss, “Mmm please stop talking now because I will have to ravish you right here for being so adorably romantic and annoyingly stubborn.”

He’s insanely hard for how sexy she is and how perfect she feels in his arms, but she’s Betty, and she acts how she always does; blissfully unaware that she just shattered and rebuilt his entire fucking world in the space of a stolen moment.


	10. Pre-Wedding Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday pre-wedding party.

“Oh my god Jughead,” Charles whispers excitedly into their hug, “I am getting _married_ tomorrow!”

He looks like he’s on the verge of either passing out or screaming like a tween fan girl at music concert, or both.

“Kevin is literally the most beautiful thing in the world,” Charles gushes and moves to Jughead’s side, arms still slung around him. 

“You’re so lucky in love,” Jughead acknowledges and Charles gives him a grin. 

The bridal party and families have all gathered at the Cooper’s house to relax and get to know each other before the wedding. Despite not being in the bridal party, the rest of the Jones family and Veronica are present. Alice reminds them that they are “pretty much family” and again Jughead tries not to pay attention to the weird feelings that causes. 

Jughead has already scoped the room for Betty, but he can’t see her, so he assumes she’s still upstairs. He momentarily contemplates sneaking up to her room to make out with her on her bed and then decides that he will undoubtedly be caught by either set of parents. He can’t decide which couple would be worse to be sprung by at this point. 

Mr and Mrs Keller are chatting to Hal and FP about their collective crossword obsession, fawning over Hal’s endless dictionaries and thesauruses, and Polly and Jason, who showed up in the wee hours of the morning, are presently chatting to Dylan. The latter looks a little star struck as he stares as the two of them. 

“Are you really leaving on Sunday?” Charles asks him. 

“I’m afraid so, Charles,” he lies softly. He still hasn’t changed his flights, but he will. “Duty calls.”

Charles scoffs at him. “That line may work on literally everyone else here Jug, but I know you’ll be going back to D.C. to do paperwork without me. It will be the worst.”

He grits his teeth, not wanting to admit that Charles is right. He steels himself to talk to Charles about Betty, but sees Polly approaching them and tenses. Polly has never liked him.

“Oh hi Jug-head,” she says coldly. He has never understood why she insists upon breaking his name down like that but despite all the Cooper women being mysterious fey-like creatures, Polly is just a bit catty. 

“Hi Polly,” he responds, dully, “How are you? How’s the latest film going?”

“Wonderful,” she says, though her nose is wrinkled a little in displeasure. “We are nearly done. A month more of filming and then Jason and I will go spend a few weeks in Hawaii on holiday.”

“Sounds lovely,” Jughead says stiffly. Charles grips his shoulder, steadying him.

Polly’s expression morphs from displeasure to dislike and she moves in closer to Jughead, menacingly. “I was just having a little chat with that guy Dylan over there. Big fan of Jason’s and mine, apparently, but not super into you for some reason. Do you know why that is Jughead?”

_Betty._

He shakes his head and refuses to look at Charles. 

Polly raises her finger to a point and jabs him hard in the chest, “Apparently, you’ve been sniffing around Betty.”

The way she says it makes him sound like an animal, but he can’t deny it. 

He gulps and doesn’t say anything. 

“Shame on you Jughead, seriously, she’s so much younger than you!” Polly sneers and hearing someone voice his inner fears and self-loathing makes him feel disgraceful.

“Polly,” Charles says sharply by his side, “Would you cut that out?”

 _Don’t defend me, Charles,_ Jughead thinks desperately, _I can’t stand being the bad guy in front of you and Betty._

“Jughead and Betty are allowed to like whomever they so desire,” Charles says evenly and accompanies that beautiful, crazy, _perfect_ sentiment with a squeeze on his shoulder. _Charles is okay with me and Betty? Like, beyond a stupid dare okay?_

He almost hyperventilates at that particular revelation. 

Polly shoots a furious look at Charles, “You’re _defending_ him, Charles, really?”

Charles nods, and says with the utmost sincerity in his tone, “Absolutely. Jughead would never act dishonourably where Betty is concerned. He lov- has known her for so long and he really cares about her.”

“What about Betty?” Polly screeches, eyes wild. 

Jughead is reminded of someone screaming “Won’t someone think of the children!” and has to actively stop himself from laughing. If only she knew how many times Betty has cornered him and demanded his touch ( _fuck, she’s so amazing_ ), she wouldn’t be so protective.

“What about me?” Betty says, smiling at Polly’s side. This is all he needs now, all the Cooper siblings making his life hell. Just throw in JB and it would be a proper torture session.

Charles gives her a winning smile, “We were just saying that you’re old enough to decide who you want to love, sleep with etcetera.”

Betty blushes to the roots of her hair and looks, wide-eyed and unmoving at Charles. “Of course I am _old enough!_ Yikes! I’ve been deciding for years without all your help, so what makes you think I need it now? Is that what you were talking about just then? My love life?”

“Yes,” Charles sings, happily. “I’m defending your right to choose. Polly is trying to police your potential paramours.”

Betty snorts softly, still flushed. “Good alliteration Charles, dad would be proud.”

Charles grins. 

Betty takes a deep breath and looks up, right into Jughead’s eyes. He is blown away by the depth of their viridescence. She looks so adorable in her white summer dress; he is almost reminded of her Juliet costume. He wants to pick her up like he did the other night, carry her away from this madness and kiss her senseless. 

Betty bites her lip and then turns from him to look at Charles and then Polly. “I can like anyone I choose and I can sleep with whomever I want,” she announces and then looks _right_ at him like it is a fucking invitation. Jughead has to stop himself from yelling to the whole party that Betty Cooper wants to crawl all over him (and that she will in almost thirty-six hours from now, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything).

_Uhh, yes please. Do what you want to me._

Betty continues firmly with a small smirk. “And may I just repeat loud and clear to everyone present: I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

“Your own mistakes, you mean!” Polly hisses at her, but Betty just rolls her eyes elaborately. 

“Polly, you haven’t been home for almost three years. You don’t get to act like a protective big sister because you feel left out.” Despite her firm words, Betty takes Polly’s hands in hers and gives them a squeeze. “I love you and I am super proud of you. You don’t need to pretend to be Charles for you and I to have a good relationship. I love you regardless.”

Polly looks back at Betty a little misty-eyed and says, “Oh… right… good…? Coming back has reminded me of how much I have missed you and Charles and I’m feeling a little guilty of all the family time I have neglected lately.”

Charles and Betty both envelop Polly into a Cooper classic hug. 

“No Polly!” Charles denies, “We love you the way you are!”

“Don’t feel bad Polly,” Betty cries, “We are so proud of you and your amazing movies! We brag about you to all our friends!”

Polly hugs them back fiercely, on the verge of tears. Jughead feels like he is intruding, so he slowly backs away until he bumps into someone. 

“Hey there Jughead,” Dylan (the nark) says with a twisted smile. “How are you going?”

Jughead snorts softly, “Just narrowly escaped with my life.”

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” Dylan says, head inclined to the Cooper hug. 

“Who?” Jughead asks stiffly. 

“Well both of them, but I meant Betty. The way she thrashed you in pool the other night was just incredible,” he says, looking a bit lovesick.

Jughead does not want to deal with this. He balls his hands into fists at his side to prevent himself from throttling Dylan. 

“Hey Betty!” the supremely-punchable-dickhead calls ( _seriously, does Kevin not have taste in straight guys?_ ), “Come here, I want to ask you something.”

Betty looks up at them and extricates herself from the Cooper hug, and walks over. This time, JB and Veronica appear, too. 

Dylan’s enthusiasm is a bit hampered as he watches the three women approach. 

“What’s up, Dylan?” Betty says, her voice even, but her eyes are dark when they catch Jughead’s gaze. 

Jughead can sense Dylan puffing out his chest like a weird bird, trying to get Betty’s attention, but she is just staring at Jughead with a heated expression. He feels his whole body tremble with need. 

“I wanted to know how you became so good at pool,” Dylan says, with a manic edge to his jovial tone. 

_Jealous, much?_ Jughead smirks to himself. 

Betty licks her lips and he shakes his head, smiling broadly because he’s so fucking happy and crazy for her.

“Oh that?” JB scoffs, giving him a pointed, raised eyebrow expression and wrapping her arm possessively around Veronica. “She learnt for some story at college, right Betts?”

Jughead wonders if that combination of words made literally any sense to anyone else in the room. Veronica seems to be nodding in affirmation. 

Betty’s eyes slowly slide to Dylan, as if she regrets the move. “Yes, well, I had to learn because I wanted to get some details out of the Kappa Lambdas and that was the easiest way to get them to speak up.”

“What?” Dylan says, confused. 

“Well,” Betty explains slowly, as if she is deciding which particular part of the story to leave out, “There was a string of particularly bad hazing events going on around campus, but not for people directly related to the Greek system, or so people thought at the time. I had managed to capture a series of photos at the reveal of these hazing incidences: like three girls waking up with their heads shaved on the campus quad, a guy taped naked to a pole, someone’s car filled with condoms blown up as water balloons and I noticed that there was one guy who appeared in each photo.”

Jughead’s eyebrows are raised in disbelief and awe as she continues her story nonchalantly. 

“So, tracked him right back to the Kappa Lambdas and tried to get some dirt on him,” Betty smiles as if remembering a particularly fun night. “As my first way in, I tried to seduce his friend-,”

“Tried to?” Jughead asks incredulously. His brain helpfully reminds him of the “jumping” conversation they had in the taxi the other night and he feels hot all over.

Betty laughs, “Yes, well, it turns out that the guy was very in love with his girlfriend, so it didn’t quite work out. But it was a fun try. But he did invite me to their pool tournament and told me the guy I was “interested” in was their champion. So then, it was decided: I just needed to learn pool. I went to the local bar every night for four weeks before the tournament began and I surprised myself by picking it up super quickly.”

She looks at Jughead and raises both eyebrows in a cheeky grin, “So, that’s why you lost to me. I pretty much spent a year trying to get to this guy for my story and his love of pool and messing with me was my main way in.”

“What happened in the end?” Dylan asks. 

“Oh, I confronted him about it and he dropped out of college to take a construction job,” Betty shrugs, “I ran my story but I kept his identity a secret. We’re still kind of friends. I mean, he messages me every now and then.”

“Wow,” Dylan says, impressed. “Are you working on anything else at the moment?”

Betty hesitates for a moment and then says, “I recently wrapped up a long story and subsequent investigation, which culminated in a teacher from Greendale-,” she turns to JB and Veronica and says, “Do you remember Mrs Grundy?” and then continues with they both nod, “Being exposed for a string of statutory rapes.”

“What?” Jughead says, alarmed. Mrs Grundy was a teacher when he was at school and they had gotten along quite well. 

“Yeah,” Betty says, shaking her head, “I uncovered five relationships she had with students over her time at Riverdale. Took me ages to track all the boys down and finally get them to speak out against her, but now she’s going to jail, so it makes it worth it.” 

Dylan lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “You could give Charles and Jughead a run for their money! It seems like you’re really tenacious with your investigations.”

Betty grins, pleased. “I know. There is never a lead left behind. I am all about finishing what I start.”

The look she gives Jughead sends delicious little shivers down his spine. 

~~~

Betty has been up since seven this morning and was already super tired from the previous night’s festivities at the Whyte Wyrm. Once she, Charles and Kevin had rolled into the house, she found it so hard to get to sleep for thinking about Jughead’s words and his reactions to her. She wants to make him moan like that again, and right now, all she can think about is getting his hands all over her. She catches herself sizing up cupboards or wondering if they could have a quickie in the shower or something and then reminds herself that _HE WANTS IT TO BE ROMANTIC!_

Which, of course, causes her heart to pound in her chest and her whole body to get hot all over as she thinks, _Oh my god, the sexy, stoic, fuckable Jughead Jones wants to romance me…_

And that thought is followed by a really high-pitched internal squeal of excitement that permeates her whole being and prevents her from acting normally.

It’s frustrating because she knows he is going to leave in two days and doesn’t quite know how to beg him to stay without, well, _begging._ He has no real reason to stay in Riverdale other than her and JB, and right now JB is too wrapped up in Veronica to care whether or not her brother exists. 

She sighs heavily and pours herself a glass of pink lemonade. 

“You sound exhausted Betty,” FP says, as he takes the pitcher from her hand and pours himself a glass. 

She yawns hugely, as if making her point and says, “I am so tired FP. I barely got any sleep between the whole Whyte Wyrm thing and the wedding set up. I am so excited for tomorrow, but I’m also kind of looking forward to sleeping…”

FP laughs and takes a sip of the lemonade. “Oh Veronica’s done a good job on this one. So, Betty, are you staying at the Sisters’ tomorrow night? I heard that Jug is, so I thought the whole bridal party might be.”

Betty nods, “Yeah, my room is super cool, I checked it out this morning. It’s got a stained glass window and everything!”

FP smiles at her palpable excitement. “Who else is staying over?”

“Well, Kevin and Charles of course, I think Polly and Jason have their own place,” she says, trying to get her brain to focus on logistics of the bridal party and not _what_ she will be doing in those rooms later. “They always refuse to stay here anyway. Dylan and Harper will be staying over as well and I think that’s it?”

“Sounds like it will be a wild night,” FP grins at her and waggles his eyebrows. 

Betty laughs, “I hope nothing too wild, I just want Kevin and Charles to have a beautiful time.”

“I am sure they will Betty. You and Alice have gone over and above to try and make their day special,” FP smiles, “They are very lucky to have you.”

Betty flushes at his words. 

“Speaking of Jughead and your sleeping arrangements,” FP continues with a glint in his eye that promises trouble, “Has anything else happened between you and him since the other night?”

Betty slaps her hands over her mouth in shock, but his words make her think of throwing Jughead up against the wall of the Whyte Wyrm (in a decidedly unromantic fashion). Then her tired brain kicks into gear and reminds her: _Baby girl, you are talking to Jughead’s DAD, please deflect!_

“Oh my god! FP!”

He shrugs, and says casually, “Gladys and I are curious, that’s all!”

Betty is so red she could probably melt her own skin. “You both talk about me?”

FP smiles winningly and says, “Uh, not _that_ much?”

Betty groans and collapses on the bench. FP pats her shoulder and patiently sips lemonade.

~~~

Jughead watches as Betty chats to his dad about something in the kitchen. He wants to walk over and be involved in the conversation, but instead hangs back awkwardly near Charles. When Betty collapses dramatically on the bench top, Jughead starts, alarmed. His dad looks up and catches his eye, ushering him over. 

Betty looks up as he approaches and blushes fiercely. He can’t tell if it’s because she’s pleased to see him or embarrassed about something his dad has just said. FP certainly has that smug look about him. 

“Betty and I were just talking,” FP starts and Betty gives him a wounded look. 

“FP!” she screeches and Jughead has no idea what’s going on. 

“Fine,” FP complains and actually rolls his eyes like he’s a teenager and not an ex-sheriff father in his mid fifties. “We were talking about FBI stuff. Do you remember how you kids used to all watch _Criminal Minds_ together?”

“Yeah,” Jughead nods and feels himself blushing. 

Betty laughs easily, looking utterly relieved; “Oh I remember that I was convinced I was going to marry Dr Spencer Reid for a while.” 

He will never admit this aloud, but Betty’s crush on Dr Spencer Reid had made him want to be an FBI agent. Now, every time he has to do admin work or attend some tedious departmental meeting he curses Matthew Gray Gubler from the bottom of his heart.

“We all remember that,” FP jokes, and looks at him, “Don’t we Jughead?”

He hates his dad, he decides. He will take second place on the black list of nightly curses, second to Matthew, or possibly Dr Dreamy Dylan.

“Mmm,” he says noncommittally and Betty giggles. 

“Yeah I had all these pictures of him on my wall with love hearts around them,” Betty confesses as if he didn’t already know this. “I was devastated when he got captured; that poor gorgeous man didn’t deserve to go through all that pain and subsequent PTSD in season two.”

FP smirks and asks her, “So are you still in love with Dr Reid then?”

Jughead suppresses the urge to throttle his father.

“Oh,” Betty says blushing attractively. She glares at FP before she turns to look at Jughead. Her big green eyes lock on to him and she says, “No. I have a real FBI agent to look up to now.”

His dad gives him a meaningful look, which Jughead resolutely ignores.

~~~

Later, Betty, JB and Veronica are all in Betty’s room, cooing over old photos and reminiscing about their school days. Betty is lounging on the floor, cross-legged.

“Remember when Cheryl and Veronica battled for captain of the River Vixens?” JB asks excitedly. 

Betty and Veronica share a look. Veronica says dryly, “Yeah of course _we_ do, but we were there. You were definitely not on the cheerleading team, my belle.”

JB’s eyes sparkle, “Oh yeah, but like everyone was talking about how hot it was, so the concept has lived in my fantasies ever since.”

Veronica flushes attractively and throws a cushion at her. JB laughs delightedly and flops on to Betty’s bed. 

“You might enjoy what I am planning to wear to the Whyte Wyrm then JB,” Veronica smirks.

JB sits up, looking like she has just won the lottery and grins, “V, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh you two!” Betty cries and throws a unicorn plushie at JB. 

JB laughs and ducks as the plushie hits Betty’s side table, knocking a cup of pens to the floor. JB looks at the pens and the laughter dies in her throat. 

“Betty,” JB says with a tone of concern in her voice, “Why do you have Jingle Jangle in your childhood bedroom? Is there something you want to tell us?”

Betty looks up at what JB is pointing to and frowns. It’s the clear straw that she took from the Riverdale High Cafeteria with the coloured sugar crystals in it. She tilts her head to one side and says, “What’s Jingle Jangle? That’s just coloured sugar isn’t it?”

Veronica and JB share a look over her head that she can’t decipher. 

“That shit is toxic, B,” JB spits at her, “Please tell me you haven’t taken it. I can get you all the weed you could possibly want, but please don’t take something that someone has cooked up in their filthy bathtub.”

“I haven’t taken it, I promise,” Betty feels worry rise in her at Veronica and JB’s closed expressions. 

JB crouches down at Betty’s feet and looks intently into her eyes, “Have you tried any of this Betty? Who gave it to you?”

“Wait what?” Betty says, surprised, “No one gave it to me. I found it.”

JB looks a bit relieved and then shakes her head, “Where? At La Bonne Nuit the other night? At the Whyte Wyrm last night?”

Betty laughs lightly, but it falls flat at the cold reception. “No, I kind of stole it from Riverdale High when I broke in the other day. There was so much there that I didn’t think they’d miss it.” Betty feels her face flush with the admission of her misdeeds. 

JB’s face is more horrified than it was before when she thought Betty was taking illicit drugs. “We need to tell Charles.”

Betty is on her feet almost instantly, “No! We can’t, please! I don’t want him to think that I’m causing trouble for his wedding!”

JB looks so disgusted with her as she shakes her head. “Do you think that Charles would really be mad at you for something that is not your fault?”

Betty waves her arms. “Oh no, of course I know that! I just don’t want Charles to feel like he has to pay more attention to me than the love of his life. Can we just tell your dad or something?”

JB’s expression changes from one of angry concern to one of anticipatory glee, “Nope. We can tell my brother though.”

Betty’s eyes widen, “Oh no JB...” 

JB snorts, “Yeah okay, I’ll bite. What’s the excuse this time?”

Betty shakes her head, trying to clear it of thoughts of Jughead. “I don’t want him to feel obligated to look out for me…”

She didn’t voice the next part of that sentence: _I’d rather him want to look out for me of his own free will._

JB rolls her eyes and says sharply, “Get your head out of the sand Betty; this could be serious! That rat that got delivered to your car is probably in response to you seeing something that you shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t be ridiculous JB,” Betty denies, feeling a hint of fear in her chest. 

“I am not overreacting here,” JB insists and pulls out her phone to call Jughead. When he answers she snaps her orders: “I need you to come to Betty’s room now. Don’t sass me, boy; drop whatever you’re doing and come up here immediately. Yes, yes, tell dad I say hi.”

They wait in silence for a moment, just watching the door. When Jughead walks in, his expression goes from nervousness to confusion as he stares at the three women sitting around the room, looking at him. 

“Am I to be judged for something here?” Jughead asks with a small laugh. 

JB scoffs, “Yeah, everything. But we actually need you here in a work capacity.”

Jughead shifts from uncertain guy in a girl’s pink childhood room filled with unicorns to a relaxed yet alert, Special Agent. Betty can’t help but be aroused by this transition. 

“Is it based on what we spoke about the other day JB?” He asks briskly and yes, Betty is now properly turned on. _Um, what the hell, libido?_

Then the words filter into her consciousness.

“Wait, what?” she interjects into their little Jones siblings glances. 

JB barely looks at her. “Yeah, I told him about the rat, Betty.”

“You said that was a coincidence or something silly!” Betty gasps at her and continues, “But then of all people, you go to _Jughead_ without my permission?”

“Hey!” Jughead says, hurt.

Betty slumps and assures him, “I don’t mean it like _that_ , Jughead.”

“The how do you mean it?” he asks, eyes concerned.

“You guys can talk - or not talk - about your unresolved sexual tension later,” JB cries loudly and Betty starts, trying not to meet Jughead’s eyes.

JB turns to her brother and says casually, “Yeah, it turns out the rat was in response to Betty stealing Jingle Jangle from someone’s supplies.”

Jughead looks at her with a flabbergasted expression, “What? Betty, why on earth would you do that?”

Betty feels attacked and defends herself as quickly as she can, “It wasn’t like I knew what it _was!_ I’ve never seen it before! I thought they were coloured sugar crystals and they looked pretty.”

If Jughead looked taken aback before, now he looks floored. He actually puts a hand over his mouth as if to hide a huge smile and says, voice muffled, “You what?”

Betty doesn’t understand why everyone is so shocked by this. She mumbles, “I thought they were pretty. I was going to make cupcakes with them.”

Betty watches as Jughead buries his face in his hands and she feels so confused as he starts shaking. “Juggie?” she asks, reaching out to him.

Jughead doubles over and cracks up laughing. There are actual tears in his eyes as he braces himself against her bedframe, cackling his head off. JB joins in shortly after and Veronica follows, trying to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself from giggling. Soon, they are all practically rolling around on the ground while Betty just folds her arms over her chest and sulks at the unfairness of it all. 

Jughead recovers enough to wheeze through laughter, “Cupcakes!” Then he’s shaking the bed frame from laughing so hard. “You would have fed your family speed cupcakes Betty.”

“What?” she shrieks, horrified. “Is that what Jingle Jangle is?”

Her stupid friends and stupid, gorgeous Jughead Jones are laughing so hard at her that tears are streaming down their faces. 

Well, she doesn’t have to sit around and watch this scene any longer. She stands up slowly and brushes her summer dress down as if ridding herself of their teasing and goes to walk out of the room. 

Jughead catches her hand. “Don’t go,” he gasps behind her, laughter in his voice ruining the romantic movie scene she pictures in her head at his words. “I’m sorry for laughing.” 

She supposes she can forgive him as he pulls her into an easy hug, still shaking around her, his stomach muscles quivering with each successive repressed chuckle. She tilts her head back and looks into his deep blue eyes, which are brimming with mirth and gives him a wry smile. He does look spectacular when he laughs, and Betty laments that he doesn’t do it often enough. Although she feels incredibly blessed from seeing stoic Jughead Jones lose it in her bedroom, she just wishes that it wasn’t because he was _laughing at_ her. 

She sighs softly against his chest and relaxes into him. 

“Honestly woman, are you trying to kill me?” He jokes and she has no idea what he is referring. She decides she doesn’t care and snuggles into the crook of his arm.

He holds her in his arms until everyone in the room has calmed down. Betty steps back, but Jughead’s arms hold her possessively in place. Her whole body thrums with pleasure and she sighs against him. 

Before JB can make a comment about it and cause Jughead to freak out, Betty turns to face her and Veronica. Jughead’s arms remain around her midsection. The position feels remarkably comfortable and she tries to ignore both JB’s pointed smirk and Veronica’s expression of delight. 

And, she tries to ignore how _perfect_ it feels. 

“Okay,” he says slowly, and she can feel his voice rumbling in his chest. “So, let me get this straight. You stole Jingle Jangle from someone because you thought it was cupcake decorations? Why would you even steal cupcake decorations to begin with?”

Betty moves to his side so that she can stare at his face when she replies, “Well I took it from Riverdale High, kind of accidentally-on-purpose when I broke in the other day.”

“You broke-,” he starts, eyes wide and furious before he closes them, grits his teeth and says, “Please do go on. I’m getting ahead of myself here.”

Betty snarls at him, “I broke in because I wanted to get some personal information from the administrator’s office.”

They all stare at her and she shrugs, “What? I still remember all the passwords, so it’s not super illegal.”

Jughead shakes his head at her, but he looks like he’s trying not to laugh again.

“Anyway, so I decided to just poke around a little. I noticed the lights on in the cafeteria, and because they are sensor lights I thought that someone might be in there. I thought they might be someone I could question, but no one was there. I went out back to the kitchen and then the coloured sugar distracted me – I mean the “Jingle Jangle”. Which is a stupid drug name by the way. Why not sugar sparkles or unicorn dust or something more appetising?”

JB looks at her incredulously and says with a note of sarcasm, “We will be sure to call you when we get to the marketing portion of this conference.”

Betty giggles. Jughead just looks back and forth between them in disbelief. 

“And then you went back to your car and found a dead rat on it?” Jughead asks carefully.

Betty shakes her head and says, “No, that was Wednesday.”

Then, it dawns on her. “Oh you think that someone saw me steal the drugs? Damn, I should go give them back then.”

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” Jughead points out, thumbs now running distractedly over her stomach, making her feel hot all over. “Your car was parked outside _The Register_ , right?”

She nods, “Oh so you think whoever put the rat there knows I’m a journalist?”

He nods grimly, “I would bet on that.”

“Dammit,” she cries and rubs her hands over her face in frustration. “This is honestly so annoying!”

“Annoying?” Jughead asks her, fingertips digging into her hips. His tone is little theatrical if she’s being completely honest. “Not dangerous or terrifying, but annoying? Like it’s a minor inconvenience to you?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Betty shrugs with a bit of bravado. “I think you have to put up with this sort of thing once you get into the big leagues.”

JB cuts in angrily, “You mean like the guy that tried to lure you into his house?”

“What?” Jughead hisses venomously next to her. 

She flinches at the darkness in his tone. “Yes, well, that was unfortunate.”

“Fuck, Betty, do you have a death wish or are you just naïve?” Jughead asks her, stress and fear leaking into his voice. 

“Jug! What the fuck?” JB cries and Betty assumes her face is hurt and shocked, because that’s how she feels. 

She extricates herself from his grip and turns her full body to face him and says in a low voice, “Neither. I am a journalist. There are some risks that come with the job that I have to bear, like you with your job.”

He opens his mouth, but she talks over him, “I’ve grown up Jughead! I don’t want you to treat me like a little kid anymore. I want you to see me as an equal.” 

He looks at her with an inscrutable expression and she barrels on, “You don’t get to spend all this time pushing me away and then decide you want to swoop in like I need a saviour. I don’t need to be saved.”

“I don’t…” he starts awkwardly, but it is unclear to her what he’s refuting. 

“Plus,” she continues as if he hadn’t interrupted her, “Aren’t you leaving the day after the wedding anyway? What’s the point of me asking for your help if you’re going to go back to D.C.? I should be speaking to your dad about this.”

He licks his lips nervously, staring intently into her eyes. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

Betty folds her arms trying to ignore the twinge of _want_ in her, “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he growls, eyes boring into hers. 

“Oh my fucking god Jughead,” JB buts in angrily, “Just fucking change your flight already!”

Jughead’s eyes haven’t left Betty’s and she nods once as if she’s giving him permission. He exhales a long slow breath, looking visibly relaxed. 

But then a beautiful, genuine smile blooms on his face and she knows she has lost. Despite being completely frustrated with him, she knows that she is totally and utterly his. 

~~~

After the third phone call, Jughead has secured an extra two weeks of leave with which he will spend helping Betty out with what he hopes is a quick problem, so he can spend the rest of his time with her. 

Fate has just handed him a reason to be around her on a fucking _silver platter_ and now he can text, call and visit her for any reason remotely related to the case without suspicion from the peanut gallery that is his family and her family. 

He sighs heavily and pockets his phone, kicking himself off from Charles’s bedroom wall. Jughead had ducked in to Charles’s room to make the call, not wanting to arouse suspicion of the parents and party guests milling about downstairs. 

He rakes his fingers anxiously through his hair and thinks it would be prudent for him to check in on Betty to make sure she knows he will be around for her. 

Her door is shut and he knocks softly. 

“Come in!” Her sing-song voice reaches him in the corridor and he pushes the door open. 

Betty’s childhood bedroom actively stresses him out because it feels like every time he steps in he is acutely reminded that he is indeed a filthy pervert who has long lusted after a someone _so much younger than him._ It also looks like a unicorn threw up on a tea party for fairies. 

He helps himself out of his wild shame spiral by reminding himself that the age difference only matters while they are young. The older they get, the less it will matter. 

Betty is surprisingly alone, on her bed, bare feet kicked in the air as she lies on her stomach. She tilts her head when he enters, her long blonde hair spilling behind her as she smiles brilliantly at him. 

“Juggie,” she says with soft excitement and something in about the tonal quality of her voice makes his breath hitch. “Everything go alright?”

“Yes,” he says, voice sticking in his throat. Betty has shifted to her side and her summer dress is riding so far up her smooth thigh he can glimpse her lacy underwear. He raises his eyes to the ceiling and prays deeply for strength from whatever deity takes pity on creeps.

“Come here,” she says softly, her eyes shimmering as she looks at him. She pats the bed in a move reminiscent to his own on the night of the ill-fated bachelor party. He locks down every single muscle in his body so he doesn’t blindly do what she says. Betty Cooper has a fucking siren’s voice and he has to stay where he is or he is going to ravish her on that hideously pink bed.

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Betts, I’ll stay here.”

“I don’t want my parents to hear this conversation. So I need you to come here and _whisper to me_ what’s going to happen next.” Her words are innocuous, but there is a depth to her eyes that makes him shiver. 

“Makes sense,” he acquiesces and walks stiffly (in all senses) to sit at the edge of her bed. She curls around him slightly and he can feel her thigh brush up against his back and nearly groans. He chose to sit in this spot because he’s far away from her face and ergo her mouth, but this position gives him direct line of sight to the triangle of pale pink lace of her underwear. 

Because he’s total trash, his eyes keep tracking back to the smooth lines of her legs and he’s desperate for wanting to run his fingers (and tongue) up her creamy thighs until she wraps them around him. Anywhere around him will do, to be honest. He, thankfully, stifles a groan. 

“I’m staying around in Riverdale until this case is solved, okay?” He forces through gritted teeth. 

Out of his peripheral vision he can see her nod slowly. “In your opinion, is the situation really bad?” she says so softly he feels a twinge of pain in his heart.

“Oh no Betts, I’m here to help make you feel safe,” he says, eyes imploring her to understand and believe him. He wants nothing more than to bubble wrap her and hide her away from the world; she’s so precious. 

He reaches out to pat her reassuringly and then hisses when his hand lands on her bare leg.

He hears her gasp quietly and his eyes snap to meet hers; she’s flushed from her face to the curve of her breasts and he now wonders how far down that blush of hers goes. He feels himself throb in his jeans and moans involuntarily. 

Betty shifts against him slightly, her large green eyes still locked onto his, watching him with curve to her lip that he doesn’t quite comprehend. 

Her movement shifts his hand further up her thigh and he groans helplessly at how soft her skin is. 

Her eyelashes flutter and she arches her back ever so slightly, exposing her throat and he wants to lick it. 

He feels so horribly disgusting with his hand up Betty’s flimsy summer dress in her _pink, girly, childhood_ bedroom that he shudders and his fingers flex involuntarily against her soft skin. 

A breathy sound escapes her and he stays there like she’s drugged him. Her erotic position and the sensual little sounds escaping her throw him off the precarious edge on which he was balancing.

“Oh look, we’re on a bed,” Betty observes breathily, and her voice rips through him, making his cock twitch. 

He stares deeply into her eyes, thrilling at the heat he sees unfurling in them. _Fuck,_ he could drown happily in that gaze alone. He watches her intently as he slides his hand softly up the smooth skin of her thigh. 

She trembles and her head falls back as she shifts her hips against him and he wants to dig his fingers into her hips and pull her on top of him.

 _Slowly, you creepy fucker._ He flays himself. 

But he doesn’t feel ashamed enough to stop, so he traces his hand up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and lightly across her lacy underwear. She slumps to the bed with a panting sigh and Jughead can feel the presence of her moisture on his fingertips. He’s disgracefully hard.

“So we are…” he growls, voiced laced with desperation. 

She shifts slightly and he groans, catching the mouth-watering scent of her arousal, wishing with desperation that he could run his tongue over her hot quim until she screams for him. 

Jughead makes a small, strangled noise of longing. 

He watches her with bated breath, panting and looking delicious with her long smooth legs spread for him. A hot feeling suffuses his entire being and he feels insanely powerful as she pants softly. 

“Mmm yes, Special Agent Jughead Jones. Touch me,” she purrs, eyes molten and he knows he is melting from the inside out as she turns him into a fucking puddle of lust. 

“Fuck Betts,” he gasps, several powerful emotions coursing through him, making him feel invincible. 

“Or that,” she sighs, pupils dilating, and he feels a bolt of heat shoot through him at her words. She smirks at him and it sets him on fire.

Jughead needs no further encouragement. He slides his fingers down over her lace-covered clit and she makes a quiet and delightful shrieking noise. 

He can’t fucking stand it anymore; he needs more. He throws caution to the wind and climbs on Betty’s bed, stretching out on top of her, holding himself over her body with his spare hand and a well-positioned leg.

Betty’s eyes widen as he looms over her and she licks her lips. “Kisses?” she says with a pout and he must be the most despicable thing ever because that makes him so fucking hard and he leans down to graze his lips across hers. His hand slides down her clothed folds as his tongue brushes her lower lip. 

One arm coils around his neck as she arches into him, pressing herself against his finger ineffectually while panting into his mouth. Everything about her entrances him and her scent is all over his skin and _across his lips_ , driving him fucking wild. 

Her other hand snakes down over his chest and brushes over the bulge in his jeans and he hisses at her lips. 

“Please Betts,” he begs her. 

She makes quick work of his jeans and moments later she slides her hand over his length, humming in pleasure and he flat-lines, brain unhelpfully chanting, _Oh my god Betty Cooper is touching my cock…fuck, fuck, fuck…_

Without pausing to talk himself out of it, he tears her underwear to the side, enjoying her gasp of surprise against his lips and runs his fingers over her dripping folds. Her eyes are wild and she pulls him closer to her, mouth coving his in desperation, clutching firmly at his back. Her hand tightens around his erection and she starts moving her hand rhythmically. 

Whens she brushes her fingers over the head of his cock, he moans and tries to muffle the sound by kissing her.

He can still hear the party and somehow it simultaneously turns him on and creeps him out about what he and Betty are doing. It feels so wrong, but the way she stares at him from her glazed eyes he just wants to lose himself in her. He circles her clit and she bucks against him, desperately seeking more. Her hand clutches at him and the pressure makes him hiss. 

Her kisses are punctured by shuddering whimpers and he’s dying for more as his mouth moves Betty to breathlessness while his finger strokes her incessantly, bringing her higher and higher. She doesn’t stop touching him, matching his rhythm and he’s so fucking close from this whole situation… he feels filthy imagining his release dripping onto her pink bedspread. 

Betty is rolling her hips against him, keening and peppering his face with messy kisses as she cries, “Oh my…Juggie…”

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, hoarsely, _so fucking close just hold on_. 

She tilts her head back and he presses his lips to the juncture of her neck and jawbone, lightly sucking on her delicate skin. She’s utterly perfect and she enchants him.

_Tell me you want me, tell me you love me._

“Inside please,” she begs him, her green eyes molten and he licks her neck as he traces two fingers between her slicken folds and presses his fingertips inside her, his thumb circling her bundle of nerves. 

It gives him so much pleasure to feel her lift her hips and try to push herself over his fingers, her breathy gasps growing in intensity as he thrusts his fingers inside her. Her own movements become erratic, but right now it doesn’t fucking matter, because he’s just waiting for her. 

He revels in her delicious noises, feeling her pussy clench at his fingers as he drives them into her, keeping a steady, strong pace. Her hips jut out to meet his fingers and if he closes his eyes he can almost imagine the feeling of her liquid heat sliding over his rigid cock.

“Damn, you’re magnificent Betts,” he groans and she kisses him insistently. 

He’s gasping with her as she keens, arching underneath him, and he thrusts his fingers deep into her, feeling her walls flutter around him, clasping at him as his gorgeous Betty climaxes at his hand. He comes with a deep groan moments later, release surging over his exposed stomach and the bottom of his shirt. He turns quickly to prevent it from dripping on to her bedspread. His free hand reaches for the tissue box on her bedside table.

“Oh Jug,” she tries to speak, eyelashes fluttering as she trembles under him. “Thank you.”

“Beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely, kissing her flushed cheeks while trying to clean himself, “Thank you. You’re incredible.”

_I want to be with you forever._

She lets out a low moan and rolls her hips against his fingers, which are still inside her. Would it be so bad if their first time were in this bedroom? He tries not to look around (it still freaks him out so much) and just keeps his eyes on the love of his life, flushed and satiated on the bedspread, still humming in pleasure. 

He hears someone coming up the stairs and freaks out about one of the Coopers finding him – ah – like this... He gently (but with great haste) takes his fingers out of her, ignoring her breathy moan and goes to take a seat at her desk. 

He has thankfully pulled out his phone and is casually checking emails when Alice Cooper pops her head in the door with a short knock to herald her imminent arrival. Betty is lying on her bed reading a magazine, looking relaxed. 

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! Jughead… I didn’t realise you were in here with Betty… I am so terribly sorry for interrupting. Anyway, ah - we are going to do cake and champagne now, so do you want to come down?” She says with a troubled smile, though her eyes are positively gleaming. 

Betty chirps, “No problem mom, give me one moment and I’ll be right down.”

Alice nods once and shuts the door. 

Jughead mulls over the fact that he nearly got caught by _Alice Cooper_ of all people in Betty’s childhood bedroom and the whole situation feels so high school that he wants to smack his head against the desk and lament self-pityingly. Isn’t he way too old for this shit?

Betty breathes out a sigh of relief when Alice leaves. “Phew, lucky! Want to go down Juggie?”

“Go down on?” Jughead says before he can stop himself. 

Betty’s eyes darken and she takes a step closer to him. “Well, we can continue?”

He shakes his head. “Your mom will be back up any second.” The way she glares at him makes his heart sing. “Come on, beautiful, you know what she’s like.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. “Fine. But I’m not done with you,” she states firmly and he feels outrageously turned on by her words. “Tomorrow, we continue as discussed.”

_Sweet holy fuck…_

“As the lady desires,” he purrs at her and she leans over him in the chair to brush her lips against his. He moans because he is too far-gone at this point. 

“Oh I do,” she whispers, her voice laced with arousal. She turns and walks to the door, “By the way, I’m clean, on birth control and I consent, just so I am totally transparent with you. I don’t want you to back out and cry foul on me if I have one measly glass of champagne or something.” Her voice is teasing and he hates how good it makes him feel, despite her making fun of his earlier reticence. 

He smirks at her words and says, “I’m clean too. Got tested before I came home.” _It was definitely creepy to think that it was a “just in case” manoeuvre, right?_

He feels heat suffuse his face anyway. Betty giggles, “Join me for cake?”

“Give me a moment, I’m going to go to the washroom,” he lies smoothly. She nods and breezes out of the room, her fingers trailing across his back as she leaves. 

He looks around the room, feeling super dirty, turned on and elated all at once.

And, like the pervert he is, Jughead brings his fingers to his lips and tastes her essence. He moans and thinks, _Fuck, she destroys me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to **Cherlynne** , I have Tumblr now! Come Tumbl with me @Lucivar to see my fan art and have a chat!
> 
> Also, next week it's WEDDING TIME Y'ALL! So get ready for a chapter of romance, wedding stuff and of course, bughead getting it on!  
> I can hear you all scream "finally, you sexual tension sadist!". You're welcome x


	11. The Most Magical Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you looking forward to a day of clichés and wedding tropes and bughead getting it on? You’ve come to the right place. And here we go…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I have been told by several people IRL that I am the least romantic person they’ve ever met, so let me know if you think I can write a sweet wedding scene at least lol. I'll rub it in their smug faces hahah
> 
> My inspiration for Betty’s dress is entirely in my own mind, but the closest dress I could find on the Internet that matches the design is the wedding dress “Chad” by Sottero and Midgely, sold by Raffaele Cuica. I imagined the back of the dress to be a bit different and no train, more silk and less tulle, and of course, blush pink. But this vibe is pretty right (or at least, coming from a non-romantic opinion). Feel free to share your own dress options if you imagined something different!

When Jughead rings the doorbell of the Cooper household in the late morning, he is completely unprepared for Betty to greet him in a tiny pink silk robe that shows way too much of her upper thigh. He remembers the way his fingers felt on her thighs yesterday and yes, it turns out that no matter the hour of the day, Betty Cooper can get him hard. 

He almost clutches his chest as she smiles radiantly at him from under a face of make up. It’s too much like his own wedding day scenarios he’s dreamed of, so it makes his heart clench for many reasons. Needless to say that she’s stunningly beautiful, as always. 

“Jughead,” she says softly, eyes sparkling. She walks into his embrace (around precariously balanced coffee cups in his hands) and snuggles under the crook of his arm. He thinks he hears her hum quietly. 

Jughead’s heart is in his throat, tapping away violently and he can’t stand how good he feels in knowing that she wants him. The fact that she minced no words about it made all the difference to him; he finally feels like the fucking shackles of self-flagellation and angst are off and he can just drown in her. 

She shifts against him impatiently, setting him off again and he wants to draw her tight to him, but his hands are filled with coffee trays and his wedding clothes. 

“Careful not to ruin your make-up,” he smirks down at her, “Though, I can certainly help mess you up afterwards, if you’d like?”

“Oh,” she sighs, eyelashes fluttering as she stares at him with dilated pupils, “I would like.”

He feels heat spread through him, his skin alight with a tingling feeling as he thinks of getting his hands and mouth all over her later. 

“Yeah?” he purrs back at her, revelling in her quiver of pleasure, “Tonight I am going to make you scream, Betty Cooper and that’s a promise.”

She squeaks against him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. _Mmm, yes._

“Is that Jughead?” Charles calls (rudely interrupting them) from the dining room, “Does he have coffee?”

Jughead holds out a tray for Betty who rolls her eyes. “We are in full-on diva mode today…”

“Hey,” Jughead says in mock-seriousness, poking at her playfully on the shoulder, “It’s his wedding. He’s been dreaming and scrap-booking about this since he was a little boy, okay? Have some respect.”

Betty pokes out her tongue and ushers him inside. 

“Coffee for my favourite people,” Jughead announces as Betty hands out the cups around the room. 

Charles looks thrilled to see Jughead. Polly folds her arms in disinterest. Her hairdresser murmurs something to her that makes her sit up straight again. 

“Jughead!” Charles cries and he graciously accepts the coffee from Betty, “You magnificent son of a gun!”

Jughead tries to feign hurt, “All you want me for is coffee! That’s all this relationship is to you, isn’t it?”

“Oh Jughead, I want you,” Betty says absently as she’s handing Alice a cup. He feels a thrill go through him at his words and watches as she freezes immediately, looking down at the floor as if she has spotted something very interesting. 

Everyone’s heads swivel in Betty’s direction and she blushes hotly. “I want you to know that we are all grateful for the coffee,” she says calmly, though her eyes are filled with playfulness. 

The Coopers look extremely amused by her awkward words, but no one comments. 

“Betty,” Charles says softly, “While Polly is getting her hair done, do you and Jughead want to play cards in the kitchen? Or find something else to entertain yourselves.”

Betty smiles pleasantly at Charles, “Of course Charles.” Her gaze flicks to Jughead’s briefly before she picks up the pack of cards from the table and walks over to him. He can hardly keep his eyes off her fucking hemline long enough to stare at her face.

When they sit down, Betty takes his hand and puts it on her thigh. He gasps as a hot bolt of arousal floods through him. Her eyes meet his and she grins suggestively. “Entertain me?”

_Oh, if only I could spend the rest of my life entertaining her._

Jughead chokes on his coffee and grins at her. His fingers softly caress her thigh. “No problem gorgeous,” he whispers, “Do you think you can be silent in this communal room, while I’m running my fingers up your thighs, circling your clit and dipping inside you?”

She gasps loudly and claps her hands over her mouth.

“Don’t ruin your makeup,” he smirks and strokes her thigh again. The mewling sound she makes behind her hand makes his blood sing.

“Fine,” she gasps as he slides his hand up her thigh to brush against her underwear. “You’re right, I can’t be silent.”

“Good, because I want to hear everything,” he whispers hoarsely, “So just hold on for a few more hours okay?”

She sniffs at him in impatience and he knows how she feels. 

~~~

The day passes slowly and yet when it reaches three thirty in the afternoon he finds himself confused of how he’s just spent half of a day in a cloud of hairspray and losing badly at cards to a green-eyed minx. 

Betty has been upstairs for the past half hour with Polly. Charles, who is lounging around shirtless, informs him that they are putting on their dresses. The photographer had arrived shortly after he did and was probably upstairs taking photos of Betty in her undergarments. Jason and Hal are playing cards at the kitchen bench. 

Why does he feel like this is his prom night all over again? Like he is waiting for his beautiful bride – ah date, not bride, date - to walk down the stairs and his heart is stuttering in his chest. He can’t seem to take his eyes from the stairs as Charles chatters to him about random stuff. 

“So then Betty said that she was -,” Charles’s words filter into his absent consciousness. 

“What?” he says, stupidly. 

“Oh nothing,” Charles smirks at him from the dining table, “Nothing at all.”

He’s about to say something to Charles, to try to make conversation to throw him off his scent, when instead he decides to steel himself and say, “Charles, I’m in lo- uh – I like Betty. A lot.”

Charles’s eyes widen as he looks at Jughead. He looks amazed.

“I know,” Charles says simply and he smiles warmly, “I’ve known for a long time, actually. I’m glad that you can finally admit it to me.”

Just like that, Jughead feels like the weight and the guilt of the past several years has been lifted from his chest and he feels free, like he can breathe again. 

“I was so worried that you’d be disgusted with me,” confesses Jughead, his head impossibly light. 

Charles grins and pulls him into a hug, “The idea has had years to grow on me, and so I am way cooler with it now. Plus, I just want you to be happy.”

Jughead gasps, mortified, “You’ve known for _years_?”

Charles shrugs, “Yeah more or less. You’re very good at deflecting with me and you know I don’t like to push you. But you have no defences for Kevin, so we had to needle you with new tactics.”

Jughead just stares at him, mouth agape.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter now. You have to know now that I love you,” Charles says simply, looking deeply into Jughead’s eyes. 

“I know,” Jughead smiles, “I love you too. I promise I will take care of her.”

Charles’s hand is steading on Jughead’s shoulder and the sense of relief is so strong it’s almost visceral. 

“I have no doubt,” Charles says sincerely, “That the two of you will look after each other.”

They sit for a moment in mutual silence before the photographer walks heavily downstairs. 

“The girls are coming now,” Shannon the photographer informs them. She poses at the bottom of the staircase and starts snapping photos as the Cooper sisters walk downstairs. 

It’s as if Betty steals the breath right out from his lungs. She is a vision in the softest pink and he’s mesmerised by the way the long dress swirls around her hips, the silky material caressing her curves. If he had any song writing or poetry talent, he would write about Betty Cooper’s enchanting form and her gorgeous face for fucking eons. 

She catches his eye as she walks. He hears his breath hitch and stops himself from moaning openly at the sparkling look in her eyes. The way her gaze caresses him makes him all but shiver in anticipation. 

Charles whistles, shattering the moment. “You look beautiful Betty and Polly!”

Jughead realises he hasn’t even registered Polly’s existence, (decides it doesn’t matter so he) ignores her and enjoys the sight of Betty striding across the room to greet him.

“So?” she asks and now that she’s closer, he can see the delicate, sparkly tiara in her hair and the shimmery powders on her skin. She could be mistaken for an angel but the look in her eyes makes him feel like she’s undressing him. He groans slightly, wanting to run his tongue all over her. 

“Breathtaking,” he whispers truthfully, wanting to reach out and touch her. Betty raises her hand to his face and brushes his cheek with her fingertips. 

“Thank you,” she says and her eyes flutter closed for a moment. He’s surprised to note that not a single person in the Cooper household makes any noise of protest at their interaction. 

“Okay,” Shannon says sharply, “Boys, let’s get your clothes on now.”

“What a shame”, Betty whispers to him with a giggle. “I’ve grown accustomed to your abs in my line of sight.”

The vixen!

~~~

By the time they arrive at the convent, the sun is low in the sky. Shannon wants to get Kevin and Charles in a “first look” photo so the bridal party make their way into the main venue. 

Jughead hasn’t been to the convent since he was a child, with his parents on one of those weekend picnics with the Coopers. He vaguely remembers he and Charles running amok in the surrounding forests and playing hide and seek in the many rooms with their high vaulted ceilings and exposed beams. He remembers it being a spacious and somewhat draughty old stone building. Now that he’s older, he appreciates the stone archways and simple stained glass windows, the afternoon summer sun streaming through the lead lighting creating glimmers of reds and pinks across the floor and walls. 

Instinctively, his eyes seek out Betty. They drove in separate cars to the venue, as Betty is designated to take home the decorations the following day.

Betty is smiling in delight at the warm colours of the windows, the glowing shapes dancing across her face. Her eyes are warm and soft, almost misty, as she gazes at something that is beyond their plane of existence. He wonders what she is dreaming about and indulges himself in a brief fantasy in which she’s thinking about him and their future together. 

Without disturbing her, he takes out his phone to capture this moment forever. He realises he’s accidentally videoing and watches through the lens of his camera phone as she notices him and a gorgeous, genuine smile blooms on her face. 

“Juggie,” she whispers and her hand reaches out for him. He hastily puts away his phone and walks over to her, pulling her into a tender embrace. Betty sighs and all but melts against him, her face tilted up to his. 

His eyes are on her glossy pink lips and he wants to lower his head so he can brush his lips against hers. Her expression is tender and - dare he think it? – _loving_. He’s acutely aware of her whole family milling about, cooing excitedly over the venue and he and Betty are just standing off is a side corridor, wrapped around each other.

Betty doesn’t seem to care and she reaches up to press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

He hears himself gasp slightly and he refocuses on the heat in her green eyes. It pulls at him, creating an inescapable vortex of want into which he spirals. His hands slide to cup her chin and he kisses her back with the same tender sweetness. It’s excruciatingly slow and he’s fighting against every instinct to overwhelm himself in her body and the _sensation of her._

Betty mewls against his lips and he finally notices how hard he is, one hand running the length of her torso over the silken fabric and to the curve of her hip. He wants this, wants her like he’s never wanted anything else in his life. 

He deepens the kiss, not caring if he licks off the gloss coating her mouth because he’s desperate for wanting to taste her. She gasps and winds her arms around him, digging her nails into his back, pulling him closer towards her. He runs his hands over her silky hips and she shivers against him. 

“Shall we go outside to look at the decorations?” He hears Mrs Keller say in the other room.

Betty pulls back slightly, panting. Her eyes flick between his own, uncertain. “Should we join them?”

“If we have to,” he mutters, nibbling on her lips. She sighs into him, melting in his arms. He runs his hands up her side and brushes the underside of her breast. Her breast is soft and firm under his fingers. “Oh sweet sin, you’re not wearing a bra…”

Betty cries out in his arms and presses desperately against his hand as he strokes her nipple to a stiff peak with his fingers and ravishes her beautiful mouth. Knowing that his past drunken self had touched her like this made him wild to want to repeat it, replace the memory with something hyper-real, rather than the dream-like quality of his intoxicated past.

Betty is beautifully responsive to his touch and arches in his arms, her hip pressing up against his erection as she keens. He gasps at her lips and peppers kisses all over her pouty lips, down her neck and between the valley of her breasts.

She pushes her breasts towards his mouth and he chuckles, lightly capturing a covered nipple between his lips.

“Oh Juggie,” she whimpers as he nibbles at her with terrible softness. Her hands tremble at his shoulders and she is rubbing herself against his erection with increasing desperation. 

_Does she know how perfect she is?_

He feels her fingers digging into him and is enchanted by the way she moves - not too shy to take pleasure from him – pressing her nipple into his mouth, head arching back as her breathing gets more erratic. He feels himself throb in response, moaning against her perfect breast.

“Come for me, gorgeous,” he whispers, and tugs lightly on her nipple with his lips. Betty keens against him and grips him with such strength as she comes. He holds her steady as she slumps against him, back still arched. Sliding his hands up her bare back, Jughead delights in her trembles as he curls her into his shoulder, whispering, “You’re perfect,” to her over and over again.

As she relaxes against him, Betty sighs, “I think that made the ache worse.”

He groans helplessly, disgracefully hard at Charles’s wedding, dreaming about lifting up Betty’s long silky dress and wrapping her legs around him as he plunges into her. 

He tilts her head back, careful not to run his fingers through her hair messily like he so desperately wants to, but kisses her lazily, their tongues dancing. “I promise I’ll make it better.”

“Now?” She looks up at him with bright green eyes. 

His breath hitches at her words. “Fuck, you are going to kill me.”

She giggles, “You’re right, we should go to meet the others before mom springs us again.”

He shudders dramatically at that thought. Betty laughs and tugs on his arm, guiding him to the courtyard. 

The expansive courtyard of the Sisters looks positively magical. Tiny, glittery fairy lights hang from the surrounding trees and twist around overhanging wires, illuminating the space in a soft, dreamlike glow, even in the light of the late afternoon sun. The birdcages Betty had spent so much time on hang from the same wires, glittering with tiny little copper lights. Everything is as “fairy-tale” as Alice and Betty had planned and it is breath-takingly beautiful. 

Long tables stretch along the courtyard, covered with white tablecloths. Floral arrangements of soft pinks adorn the tables, bringing a splash of colour to the otherwise pristine white. Small tea light candles in crystal holders dot the tables adding to the sultry, warm glow in the summers evening. 

Jughead spies Charles and Kevin returned from their “first look” photos. Charles has his hands over his mouth and is staring at everything in childlike wonder. He looks like he is going to cry of joy as Kevin holds him. Betty’s expression is one of blissful happiness as she stares at the joy on Charles’s face.

“This is amazing,” Charles says, voice breaking slightly with the raw emotions. He turns to Betty, who is still holding hands with Jughead, and then to Alice. “I'm so lucky to have you. Mom, Betty, you two have made all of this happen and I could not be happier or more grateful for you both.”

Kevin smiles radiantly, adding to Charles’s sentiment, “Betty and Alice, you both have really gone over and above for this wedding. I can't thank you enough for what you have done for us.”

Jughead finds himself a little teary eyed to think that his best friend and partner, will be marrying the love of his life in a few short hours.

Alice is crying when she says, “Oh I love you boys so much, of course we wanted your day to be magical.”

She goes up and hugs them both, weeping about how beautiful they both are. The bridal party move into a large messy hug, patting each other's backs, hugging and smiling amongst themselves, as they look upon the glittering, beautiful venue and the hugging couple that represents all the love that their families have for Kevin and Charles. Jughead doesn’t let go of Betty for even one moment, but instead makes small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. 

Betty's eyes catch his and they sparkle in the twinkling lights. Jughead again finds himself completely enchanted looking at the excitement on her face. The whole situation is impossible now; he wants to kiss her more and more with each passing second, and the more he does that, the more he is afraid of how he’s going to feel when she tells him it is only a summer fling. 

“Shall we finish these photos?” Charles asks the group.

There are murmurs of agreement as Shannon stops taking candid shots and starts directing different people into formations. 

After several photos, Shannon turns to Jughead. “Hey best man,” she says, “I want to get a photo of you and your bridesmaid partner.” 

He nods and Betty grips his hand harder, saying with a smirk, “I'm your partner.”

He feels his heart stutter in his chest at her words and he guides her into the position that Shannon is describing.

“Oh I know,” he says with a crooked grin, “I wouldn't have bothered coming to this wedding if that weren't the case.”

Her lips part momentarily in surprise and then she rolls her eyes dramatically. “Yeah sure. As if you would miss your best friend's wedding in protest for not walking with me.”

Jughead just grins at her, resisting the urge to touch his fingertips to her nose and say, “boop” like a lovesick idiot. 

Shannon positions them into an intimate embrace, and he feels little self-conscious as the rest of the wedding party watch him staring deeply into Betty’s eyes, standing impossibly close with his hands on her waist. 

He dreams about kissing her again, but without clothes. 

“Relax your fingers, Jughead,” Shannon instructs, mirth lacing her tone, “You look like you’re trying to tear her clothes off.”

Jughead chokes and catches the look in Betty’s eyes. Her pupils are dilated and as he relaxes his fingers he can’t resist tracing a little circle at her waist. 

“Do it,” Betty whispers through her angelic smile, “Tear them off.”

Jughead hopes that Shannon doesn’t immortalise his raging hard-on in _every_ photo. 

~~~ 

Half an hour later, Jughead and Betty are standing arm in arm waiting for their music cue. They are walking last, following Harper and Susan, then Polly and Dylan. Alice and Charles stand behind them, giggling and crying into each other’s shoulders. 

Jughead watches the other couples walk out into the darkening evening, enjoying the music coupled with cicada song. He watches the lights twinkling and hears the hushed voices of his friends and family before he allows himself to again turn to the woman at his side. 

_This moment is perfect,_ he thinks, looking at Betty’s beautiful face, _I'm so lucky to be here._

“Isn't it magnificent?” Betty sighs next to him, looking up into his eyes.

“Yes,” he breathes softly and her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. 

He wants to stay like this forever, just staring into her luminous green eyes that are emanating such joy and love. He wants her to stare at him like this forever.

But the moment is over all too soon and their music cue comes up. 

He holds her arm in his own, and guides her gently out the door and down the aisle. He hears her breath catch as the reach the row of chairs with smiling faces. He notices JB’s grinning face, her arms wrapped possessively around Veronica. He sees his parents with pride and tears in their eyes, as if it’s his own wedding, as they watch him walking down the aisle with the love of his life. 

He absorbs all of these glances in a brief moment before he returns his gaze to the woman at his side.

Betty Cooper, the woman who has his heart and soul; the woman who is his everything.

When they reach their spot in the line on Charles’s side, Jughead keeps his hand threaded through hers and together they turn to watch Charles and Alice walk down the aisle.

Jughead spares a moment to look at Kevin's face. Kevin has tears in his eyes, but his smile is radiant as he watches Charles approach him. 

Charles looks like he is simultaneously going to burst into laughter and cry at the same time, which Jughead knows is possible, because he has seen it many times before. 

His heart is full of love for Charles and Kevin, his family and the Coopers. Most of all, he thinks about how much he loves Betty. She squeezes his hand and he turns to face her, noticing the tears of joy tracking down her cheeks. She smiles and offers her a handkerchief from his pocket, which she takes with a watery sniff.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to watch the union of two kindred spirits, two beautiful souls: Kevin Keller and Charles Cooper as they engage in the most sacred covenant; marriage.” the celebrant says clearly.

Again, he rubs reassuring circles on the back of her hand with his thumb as they turn to watch Charles and Kevin say their vows. Betty dabs at her eyes with the handkerchief.

“Charles, when I first met you, despite having worked forty eight hours straight and you bringing me the single most hellish case of my life, you still looked like a goddamn angel under those fluorescent hospital lights. You stole my breath from the moment I first saw you and as we got to know each other better, I realised that in that moment, you also stole my heart. Charles Cooper, I love you with everything I am. I vow to make you avocado on toast every weekend, to buy you your own bucket of popcorn whenever we go to the movies together, to kiss you when you're feeling overwhelmed and to sing nonsensical pop songs with you in the shower. I vow to love you forever. I can't wait to start this new chapter with you as my partner.”

Charles emits a heartfelt sob at his words. 

“Kevin, you are the most gorgeous person I have ever laid eyes upon. You are the smartest, most devious, sassiest person that I know, and sometimes I can’t stand how hot you are. I am and always will be your number one fan; despite the legions of followers you create in your wake. Kevin Keller, you excite me, you challenge me and everyday I wake up next to you I am inspired to be a better person. I vow to greet you with cups of coffee, to make you tea when you're sad, to always be shirtless around our apartment in summer and to support you no matter what. As everyone here knows all too well, I have been waiting for this day since you proposed to me. I am so excited to be your husband; I love you Kevin.”

Jughead feels a tear run down his cheek and almost considers stealing back to the handkerchief from Betty. She’s weeping softly next to him, so he just closes his eyes and enjoys the moment. 

~~~

The wedding passes in a blur of colours, lights, finery and conversation. Jughead is thrilled to see Charles and Kevin so radiant in love. He watches in wonder as the voices and music swirl around, on this glorious summer night and wants to remember the feeling of this night forever.

One of the more gratifying moments of the evening is when Dylan comes by to speak to Betty and she accidentally calls him the wrong name. She says it in such a sweet voice that Dylan just looks dejected and slinks off with his tail between his legs. She then turns to give him a pointed look as if to say, “Jughead, I just insulted an important guest at _my brother’s wedding_ , don’t make me regret this.”

He grins like the idiot in love he is. 

After the delicious three-course meal, Jughead is ushered up to the podium to make his speech. He has spent the whole night with Betty’s thigh pressed up to his own and her fingers dancing lightly on his forearms. 

Whenever he turns to look at her she licks her lips and he finds he can’t look away. 

As he gets up, she squeezes his arm and whispers, “Good luck.” He resists the urge to kiss her in response and goes up to make his best friend happy. 

“Hi everyone, I’m Jughead Jones, Charles’s best man. Charles and I have grown up together our whole lives and he has been the best influence on me." 

“One needs to only look at Charles and Kevin to understand that what they have is so beautiful and pure, it must be treasured.”

“I was there the moment they met. Charles and I were working a particularly gruelling case and a lot of it involved trips to the local hospital in D.C. This was where Dylan, and our main man, Kevin worked as doctors. Anyway, so we walk in looking horrible, having spent the past week in the same clothes, running purely on coffee, adrenaline and anxiety. We were completely awake – you can imagine that we looked like zombies under the fluorescent lights- and in walks Kevin Keller.”

Jughead looks at Charles, who is grinning and blushing profusely. 

“Charles takes one look at him and makes this sound like he’s dying for air, clutches his heart dramatically and says, “Oh my god, Jughead, I think I’ve just seen the most beautiful man in existence. Are we on a movie set?””

Jughead grins as the crowd coos. “And then, strong, brave, FBI Special Agent Charles turns on heel and runs out of the hospital like a pack of wild dogs are nipping at his heels. Over the course of the case he slowly worked up the courage to speak to Kevin and then finally ask him on a date.”

“I’ll never forget what Kevin said to him. He gave him a once over and then cracks this huge smirk and says, “Finally, I thought I was losing my edge here!””

Everyone laughs, clearly being able to imagine Kevin saying such a thing. Charles kisses him full on the mouth in response. 

“And the rest, they say, is history. Charles has keep a daily countdown in my calendar to remind me how many days it is to his wedding.”

Jughead turns to Charles and smiles, “I hope you are having the most wonderful day, because you deserve such happiness. You have been my best friend for my whole life, my college roommate and now my partner at work, I cannot think of anyone better to be your partner in life than Kevin Keller.”

“Kevin and Charles are unbelievably adorable together; old ladies on the street stop them to pat their hands, straight women cry in both lust and sadness and every single guy feels inadequate next to the shine of their collective handsomeness. But what I love the most about Charles and Kevin is how much they love each other. They support each other through every obstacle, they make jokes out of every problem, they are idiots in bliss and they have found in each other the one thing we are all looking for: eternal love.” 

“So, can I get you all to raise your glasses to Charles and Kevin, the most beautiful couple around? Cheers!”

~~~

As the dancing starts, Betty finds JB and Veronica in the crowd. JB looks dashing in a fitted suit with a forest green silk blazer, red lipstick and fitted black slacks. Betty notices that she has cut her hair in an edgy, sharp look, her hair curling into a fringe over her blue eyes. 

“Great hair JB,” Betty exclaims, “You look super hot.”

“Doesn't she though?” Veronica croons, and runs her red painted nails up JB’s lapel, seductively. “Now I get easy access to her neck.”

JB flushes and clears her throat before she says, “I thought it was time for a change. I've had luxurious tresses for as long as I can remember.”

Veronica stares lovingly at JB.

“Veronica,” Betty says softly, “That dress looks magnificent. I can't believe you made it at all yourself.”

“I know,” Veronica laughs, “I'm just as surprised as you are that it turned out so well.”

The dress is deep wine red and drapes from Veronica’s elegant neck in halter style with a keyhole in the front. Veronica has her hair up in a messy bun, with tendrils of hair curling down her neck. A string of pearls is wrapped in her hair. Veronica looks elegant and majestic, and next to JB, they both look like they belong on a red carpet.

“Is that the tiara?” Veronica says excitedly moving closer to her, “You look gorgeous Betty. That dress suits you perfectly.”

JB nods, waggling her eyebrows. Then, she spots something behind Betty and her lips curve into a smirk.

A champagne flute is waved in front of her, and she stares at the bubbling liquid before taking the proffered glass.

“Thank you,” she says softly and turns her face up to stare in Jughead’s eyes.

His expression takes her breath away; he is looking at her as if she is the only light left on earth. She wonders if she’s over-romanticising the moment and decides it doesn’t matter; to her it’s the most beautiful expression and she feels her whole body fizz with pleasure.

“Just one more though,” she tries to pitch her voice low and seductive, like a caress. She watches with interest as Jughead’s pupils dilate. “I’ve already had one. I don’t need another if I am going to do what I’ve been planning tonight.”

Veronica grins wickedly. JB snorts into her own glass of beer, “Finally going to make it happen, huh?”

Jughead looks between them and raises his eyebrow. “Pray, tell, what are you planning on doing tonight?”

Betty appraises Jughead through her lashes, “Other than you? Nothing.”

Jughead blushes, and JB cackles and points at him, “Oh fuck, bro, you can’t say no to _that_.”

Jughead flips JB the bird, but she’s laughing too hard to notice, her beer drizzling on to the flagstones as she cackles. Veronica smiles at Betty excitedly. Jughead shakes his head and downs his champagne in one. 

He offers his arm to Betty, “Can I interest you in a dance?”

“Quit it with the years of foreplay and just bone!” JB hollers through laughter. She’s lost half her beer on the pavement from being so doubled over. Betty rolls her eyes and glares at JB. 

“Oh, definitely,” Betty says to him softly. 

Jughead slides his hand around her waist, ushering her to the courtyard garden. This secondary courtyard is lit softly, through reflected lighting and it is much more secluded than that main dance space. 

The song, “Kiss From A Rose”, filters into their senses, creating it’s own atmosphere. She takes a moment to acknowledge it is horribly clichéd, but Charles has always loved this tune. 

Jughead slides his hands up her waist and assumes a waltz pose. Surprised, she raises both eyebrows and smirks, mirroring him. She places her left hand on his shoulder and flexes her fingers in the v of his muscles. She enjoys the way his eyes flutter closed briefly and he pulls her flush against him, way closer than any traditional waltz pose would allow. 

For someone who claims to be a horrible dancer, Jughead is surprisingly smooth and Betty has to admit that he’s exceptionally good at taking control. That thought makes her a little excited. 

“So you were lying to me at La Bonne Nuit,” she teases him, watching his eyes widen, “You are good at dancing.”

“Only the waltz,” he concedes with a smirk, “Kevin taught me. Said it was necessary life education.”

Betty hums in pleasure as she feels the heat of his thighs surrounding hers. “I should thank him later.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Jughead whispers and she gasps as his fingers trail a line of heat along her back. 

As Jughead dips her, she is entranced by how delicate she feels in his arms, revelling in how his splayed hand touches the small of her back, brushing her exposed skin. She shudders as she arches her back completely, feeling a frisson of electricity run through her as she _thinks_ she hears Jughead moan against her. 

Betty lets her outstretched arm run through her hair, over her shoulder and trace along her body, teasing the edge of her décolleté. She can feel Jughead’s fingers tense against her lower back, sending a shivers all over her skin. 

She wants his hands everywhere. 

He pulls her up against him and now she’s pressed along his side, almost being carried by him. She tilts her face so she can stare into his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze is intense and she breathes out a little “oh” of surprise as his other hand breaks the meagre ballroom dancing hold and fists itself into her hair. 

The sharp feeling of his hand twisted in her hair, holding her in place as she stares at him is intoxicating. 

“Jug,” she breathes and watches his pupils dilate as he stares at her lips. 

“Elizabeth,” he purrs at her and she moans pathetically, pulling him closer to her. She’s clutching at his back and can still feel his tense back muscles through his jacket.

“Yes?” She whispers, lips inches from his. His gaze is flicking between her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts. 

He tilts his head down and his lips ghost over hers. She shudders against his hard body. He leans in and she makes a keening noise in the back of her throat, desperate for wanting this, for waiting for it. She nearly growls in frustration as his lips curve into a smirk. 

“This is killing me,” he admits in a whisper, eyes molten. “Can we please leave so I can get my mouth all over you?”

“Oh,” Betty gasps, feeling hot all over, “Yes please!”

“Oh thank fuck, I don’t know how much more wedding frippery I could stand without tearing your clothes off with my teeth.” Jughead casts a glance to either side of them and says, “In that case…”

He moves his hands and picks her up again, cradling her in his arms. She clasps her hands around his neck and watches as his eyes track from her chest to her mouth. She gasps softly as he licks his lips. 

“You are literally killing me,” Jughead repeats and she presses up against him as he strides quickly to his room. As they move through the dark stone corridors, lit by light softly diffused through wall sconces, Betty is pleased to note that no one is around. 

She can feel Jughead’s fingers curling in at her waist and emboldened by the soft lighting and the _look_ in his eyes, she reaches up and softly kisses his jawline. 

He makes a noise that sounds like a moan in the back of his throat and she smiles as she repeats the motion, enjoying the way that his eyes glaze over. 

“Do you want to make it to the bedroom?” He growls at her, but the smile on his face makes her melt in his arms. 

She giggles and bites her lip, “Does that mean you want me to stop?”

“Hell no,” Jughead gasps and holds her up higher, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. His lips are hot and he kisses her with a beautiful recklessness as he clutches her against him like a life raft. She cries out against him as his tongue brushes the edge of her lip. She has never felt so aroused in her life in anticipation of him. 

“Please don’t stop,” he mumbles against her mouth, kissing her messily, desperately, and she runs her fingers through his black curled hair and tugs on it lightly. 

She wriggles against him, breaking out of his hold. 

“What?” he hisses at her in surprise and she bites his lip in response. Her hands are busy sliding those damn suspenders off his shoulders and she keeps him busy and breathless with kisses so he doesn’t pay attention to what she’s doing.

Betty meant what she said yesterday about "going down". She loves the desperate moan that is ripped from him when she brushes her fingers over his erection. She wishes idly that she had the guts to do it while in his bedroom the other night…

“Betts, what?” he moans desperately bucking against her. She kneels on the stone floor of the corridor and undoes the buttons on his slacks. “Oh fuck.” She hears him curse. “You really don’t want to get to the room, do you?”

She pulls out Jughead’s rigid cock, enjoying how hot and silky it feels and moans for thinking of how it will feel inside her. 

“Mmm,” Betty hums, “Right where I want you.”

Jughead hisses above her and she stares up at him from beneath her lashes. He’s gripping the wall behind him as if for dear life. Delighting in this position of power she leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on his cock.

Jughead bucks against her lips and gasps, “Oh damn, sorry.”

She shakes her head and looks up him, panting erratically against the wall, “Don’t feel sorry Juggie, I just want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“Enjoying?” he chokes, “Ah sweet sin…”

She kisses him again and his hands thread desperately through her hair, fingers flexing at her scalp as she stares up at him. 

“Betts,” he whispers hoarsely, his jaw slack as he stares down at her, eyes glazed. She breathes warmly across the head of his cock, thrilling when it pulses in front of her. 

“Oh yes,” she whispers and grasps the shaft, hearing Jughead’s choked noises of pleasure, feeling him twisting his fingers into her hair and feeling so impossibly hot. She slides her mouth over the head and flicks her tongue underneath. 

Jughead cries out and his hips twitch slightly. She moans around the head and then runs her tongue down the length. 

“Fuck,” he curses above her and she takes him completely in his mouth, turned on by his taste and scent and how he throbs desperately against her tongue. His fingers clench at her hair almost painfully, but it makes her wet with need. 

She moves, wanting him to know how much she has wanted this, to feel him gasping, incoherent and hard for her as she pleasures him. 

Betty grabs at Jughead’s hips, taking him deep in her throat. He makes a guttural sound and she feels him getting impossibly thick, filling her whole mouth as she looks up into his eyes. 

“I’m going… god, you’re…” Jughead snarls inarticulately, gasping wildly, hands fisting in her hair. 

_Let go for me, Jughead Jones._

Betty thrills and takes him deeper revelling in his deep groan as he comes in her mouth, hissing, “Oh fuck, Betts!” 

Betty almost chokes on his release as it fills her mouth, but grips his hips so he can’t shift away from her. When she slides off him, he’s still panting and half hard. “Ahh that was… sweet holy sin… I think I was reborn.”

She smirks and licks her lips, watching as his eyes glaze over anew as he watches her. He unthreads his fingers from her hair and slowly strokes her golden locks before pulling her upright. 

“Okay,” Jughead breathes, tucking himself back in. “Um…wow…” he trails off and pulls her lips to his in a messy open-mouthed kiss. 

He tucks her under his arms and moves, kissing her with increasing desperation as he kicks his door open and practically tosses her inside. 

He turns on the lamp and she can see his dark eyes glinting in the light. He sits on the bed, and draws her on to his lap, lips curving into a smirk. 

“Yes,” she whispers and starts undoing his buttons. She leans in and presses her parted mouth just under his jawline, feeling him tense beneath her. She licks his skin slightly. 

“Fuck,” he gasps and he runs one of his hands through her hair in a deep caress, tangling it in her golden waves. His thumb rubs against her cheek and she’s amazed that something so chaste can feel so erotic. But, as she meets Jughead’s molten gaze, she knows that this is _anything_ but chaste. 

He pulls her up on his lap and kisses her again, slowly, nibbling at her lips and causing her to make crazy little noises of pleasure as she becomes pliant under his insistent mouth. His hands hold her so tightly, like he’s afraid that she’ll disappear when he lets go.

Betty watches Jughead’s eyes flutter closed when she runs her fingers down the side of his face. 

“Betty,” he whispers darkly and she touches his bottom lip with her tongue. His responding moan is desperate and suddenly she wants all their clothes off, wants to feel his skin against hers. 

She fumbles with the buttons on his shirt and pulls ineffectually at his bow tie. “You look super hot in this Juggie, but can you please just take it off? I want to touch you.”

Jughead actually shudders against her and she feels impossibly powerful. He stands up off the bed and tilts her head back to kiss her. He cradles her in his arms, and she’s breathless as he brushes his lips against hers. He traces his hand up her, leaving a delicious trail of heat in its wake. His fingers skim the underside of her breast and she moans piteously. He flexes them against her and tips her head back, arching her like he had in the dance previously. 

Jughead runs his lips down her jaw, nibbling, kissing and licking at her neck. She is squirming in his arms, feeling unbelievably achy and trying to press against him to seek some modicum of release, but he holds his arms around her like a vice and she gasps and moans, clutching at him with her hands. When he runs his tongue in the valley between her breasts, she arches her back further and cries out. 

He chuckles, his hot breath curling on her chest. 

She struggles against him, and his fingers now ghost the edge of her plunging neckline and she is regretting the damn Hollywood tape that’s preventing him from caressing her breast. He doesn’t seem to mind, intent on torturing her slowly by brushing his fingers around the curve of her breast, tracing over the fabric. 

She cries out as his fingers skim across her taut nipple and Jughead’s lips are back on hers in an instant; she’s keening into his mouth as his fingers brush her again. 

“I love your sounds,” he confesses, “I think they are my undoing.”

She arches in his arms as he drags his fingers up her breast to traces tortuous circles around her peaked nipple. 

His hand steadies her under her back and he brings his mouth down to replace his fingers. As before, his hot, humid breath through her dress makes her ache and her fingers are in his hair, flexing, desperately wanting more. 

He steadies her against him and tugs at the zip that rests at her lower back. He stands her up, and she wobbles on unsteady feet as he slowly peels off her gorgeous, gilttery dress and lets it pool to the floor at her feet. Betty hastily checks for the tape and takes Jughead’s proffered hand, stepping out of the mass of fabric. 

She bends down to pick up the dress and toss it on the chair, not wanting it to get crushed and turns around to face Jughead. 

~~~

Jughead is staring at exquisite, _mostly naked,_ Betty Cooper and his brain is mercilessly blank. 

She’s so impossibly beautiful, ethereal in the soft glow of the lamp as it falls across her smooth skin and caresses her long legs and torso. Her lips are parted and her eyes are filled with heat, heat for _him,_ and it’s all he can do to rid himself of the bowtie as she watches him from under her lashes. 

“Oh, let me,” she purrs and before he can protest, she’s running her fingers up his stomach to his chest and he’s hissing in pleasure. When did his precious Betty turn into such a confident woman that _would kneel down and suck him off in a public corridor_? He has no idea, but the whole thing makes him insane with need and desperation for wanting to make her scream his name in the throes of passion.

Her eyes darken imperceptibly and he watches her undo one of his buttons with such excruciating slowness that he places his hands on her naked hips to distract him. He runs his fingers from hip to the edge of her ribs thrilling in the way her breathing hitches just so.

He caresses the underside of her breast and the erection that barely flagged, even after her insanely erotic blowjob, throbs in his hastily fastened pants. He feels like all his fucking Christmases and birthdays have come at once as he watches Betty’s eyelashes dance on her pale cheeks and she moans in pleasure as he touches her. 

Then her hands are sliding under his shirt and he’s hissing as her fingers dip into the grooves of his chest and abs. She purrs in arousal and he’s appallingly hard with the knowledge that she’s humming in approval at _his_ body. 

“Yes.” He thinks he hears her breathe and her hands trace his abs and the edge of his slacks. She hooks her thumbs into them and pulls him hard against her. 

He raises his eyebrows at her insistence, “Is that how it is?”

“Absolutely,” she whispers into his ear. His whole body quivers with the anticipation of _her_.

She slides his pants off his hips and pitches him back on to the bed as she tries to tear them off his feet. He yelps in surprise as he lies prone on the bed and Betty takes off his shoes and throws them to the side. She tosses his pants and socks unceremoniously on the floor. She then kicks off her own shoes and stands over him, hands on hips. 

Never has he seen anything more erotic in his life than Betty Cooper, with a smouldering expression in her green eyes, staring at him like he’s an oasis and she’s fucking parched. 

“Where do you want me?” She whispers and he thinks he dies right then. This is heaven; it has to be. 

“Everywhere Elizabeth,” he purrs, enjoying how flushed his words render her. 

He levers himself out of the bed, not missing the way she practically licked her lips as she looked at his body, and he supposes all those early gym sessions for the past ten years have been worth it for this singular moment. 

Jughead pulls his Betty into his arms and hisses as her breasts brush against his naked chest. She moans in pleasure, her fingers tracing swirls up his sides. He snakes his hands into her hair and steals a desperate kiss from her pouty little mouth. She’s gasping and writhing against him, brushing against his hard cock and there is nothing he wants more than to lose himself in her body. 

“Damn, you’re delectable,” he hisses against her lips. She mewls and grips her fingers into his sides.

Jughead turns with Betty in his arms and gently lowers her on to the bed, covering her with his body. She keens again as his erection presses against her core. He tilts his hips back, but she digs her fingers into his waist and tries to stop him from moving. 

“Don’t,” she gasps, “Feels so good, Juggie.”

“Of course,” he growls, trying not a cry out as she spreads her legs slightly and hooks her calves in with his. 

“There,” she smirks, “Now you can’t go anywhere.”

“As if I would want to.”

He kisses her soft lips and is thrilled when she parts her mouth slightly, pliant under him and their tongues touch. She her breathy little sounds and he wants to drink her in. She rolls her hips, which brushes against his bruisingly hard erection, making him feel unhinged. 

He starts to trace slow, nibbling kisses down her neck, pausing when she hums in pleasure, trailing down her sternum. She lets her legs fall back to the bed and suddenly he’s really conscious of how her inner thighs feel and it drives him to distraction. He wants to lick them. 

Her eyes are closed and she’s moving slowly and sinuously on the bed. Unhindered and because he has every right to at present, he watches her breasts move and moans in anticipation. 

Never in a million years, life times or second chances, did he think he would be here. He wants to live in this moment forever. 

He flicks his tongue lightly over her nipple and Betty’s eyes fly open. She lifts her head off the bed; soft golden hair haloed behind her and says, “Oh! Yes!”

He can work with that. 

He lowers his mouth, thrilled that she’s watching his every move, cheeks flushed. He kisses her nipple this time; entranced by the way she arches against him. He’s also pleased that her movement allows him better access to her breast and he tugs on the nipple slightly with his teeth. Betty keens under him and he sucks a little harder.

Her fingers are threaded through his hair and he wants to take time to delight in how fucking beautifully responsive she is, shamelessly pulling him on to her, not too shy to take what she wants. 

“Juggie,” she pouts and bites her lower lip. “Please…”

“Please what?” He purrs at her, enjoying the feeling of control he has in a situation with her _for once in his goddamn life._

“I’m so ready!” She gasps at him, flushing at her own words. 

His mouth curves into a grin and he says, “Oh really?”

She props herself up on her elbows and watches him as he moves lower, trailing kisses down her stomach, over her hip bone and down the crease of her thigh. 

She’s shaking her head and saying, “No, no… Juggie, you don’t have to do that.”

He raises his eyebrows and laments whatever morons she’s been sleeping with. 

“Well,” he purrs and kisses the deliciously smooth skin of her inner thigh. “What if I am desperate to? What if I’ve been dreaming about it?”

His Betty can’t seem to find a rebuttal and moans helplessly on the bed. He takes her momentary confusion to ghost his lips over her tiny underwear, letting his lower lip catch right – 

She lets out a broken sob.

\- There. 

_Perfect._

“You can if you want,” she says though heaving gasps and he catches her eye and smirks at her. 

“Thank you Elizabeth, you’re very generous.” He lets her name roll off his tongue and kisses her over the top her underwear. She’s not exaggerating, she’s really wet, and it makes him sinfully hard to think about how fucking _real_ this is; not some fantasy, but Betty Cooper, moaning for him…

He lets out a long groan and kisses her again over her underwear. Her legs tremble and the smoothness of her skin caresses his cheeks. 

_Fuck, this is delightful._

Betty lifts her hips and tries to slide off her underwear, aching for more than his teasing kisses. He chuckles as he helps her shimmy out of it, casting the garment aside. She’s watching him through wide eyes as if he’s going to reject her, and he wants to round up every stupid boy she has slept with and clock them in the jaw for treating her like this. 

“Juggie,” she protests; eyes worried. 

“Hush,” he breathes and she shudders as the puff of air caresses her exposed quim. “Let me enjoy you.”

She lets her head tip back and he loves looking at the line of her exposed throat that leads down her beautiful body. He wants to lick every inch of her glorious skin; so he may as well start here. 

He presses an open-mouthed kiss to her clit and is rewarded with Betty gasping loudly. He kisses her again, painfully aroused at the keening sound she is making. He nibbles and licks her clit and soon she’s flat on her back, hands running over her body. 

Jughead thinks he jumped the gun before; nothing is more erotic than _this_. She arches her hips into him, moving wantonly and he thrills at her heedlessness and is excited by her confidence. 

She laces her fingers through his hair again and he loves the beautiful, desperate sounds she makes, loves her, as he traces circles around her clit enjoying her fingers flexing against his scalp. 

He can feel her getting closer, her breathy gasps and mixing with noises that are creeping up in pitch and she’s pressing herself against his mouth with a desperation that fuels him.

He dips his tongue into her wetness and she cries out in pleasure and surprise. 

“Again,” she begs and he can never deny for long her so he repeats the motion, sinking his tongue into her liquid heat and flicking it inside her. 

“Oh!” Betty cries, “Jughead, please!”

He smiles to himself as he moves his tongue inside her again and is rewarded with her prolonged shuddering cry of pleasure as she orgasms, clamping down on his tongue. 

Once her walls have stopped fluttering around him, he drags his tongue slowly, catching her release. 

“Mmm Betty Cooper, you taste divine.”

~~~

Betty blushes at Jughead’s profane, yet sensual words, feeling _wetter_ if such a thing were even possible. She’s so turned on and desperate for him.

She can’t believe she is splayed out completely naked in front of Jughead Jones and he’s staring at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. She wants to keep an imprint of this moment on her skin, in her mind, forever.

She moans and tries to pull him on top of her. “Why do you still have clothes on?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to look exasperated but only managing to look endearingly at her. He breaks eye contact to take off his underwear and she watches in anticipation.

When his erection juts out of his underwear Betty hears herself make a small sound of longing. When she rakes her eyes back up his body, she catches Jughead’s blush and the delicious, dark look in his eyes.

He rummages around for something and pulls out a condom. She almost wants to tell him not to bother; he’s her forever and that has to count for something, right? But she doesn’t find the words in time, just entranced at watching him slide the rubber over his length.

He moves on top of her and envelops her with his delicious body and she moans again, tilting her head back. He kisses her neck softly and she can feel the tip of his cock pressing against her core, hot and hard. She twitches her hips in a vain attempt to push him inside her and he groans loudly, hands fisting into her hair.

“Betty, gorgeous, look at me,” Jughead says, voice rough with arousal as he makes eye contact with her. The look in his eyes alone makes her arch in his arms, pressing herself against him. “Ahhh, yeah, just like that…”

Jughead is beautiful as he slowly thrusts into her. Betty’s fingers clutch helplessly at his sides as she wraps her legs around him, trying to draw him in. She feels every inch of him stretch her with an impossible slowness that has her squirming around in impatience (“I’ve waited for ages for this!” she mentally screams).

An awed smile crosses his face as he watches her, as if he is shocked to find that this is not a daydream. She hears herself let out a breathy moan as he fills her up completely. 

“Fuck, Betty,” he whispers hoarsely and kisses her desperately but with a sweet tenderness that makes her feel overwhelmed. 

She wraps her arms around him and pulls him against her, bucking her hips. 

He half-groans half-laughs and says, “Fine! Is this what you want?”

He pulls out and she chokes out a moan as he thrusts into her again. She nods, gripping him desperately as he thrusts again. 

“Good?” he asks her, teasingly, as she cries out in pleasure.

She wants to glare at him, but instead finds herself moaning as his cock brushes her g-spot and he grins teasingly. 

“Perfect,” she moans breathlessly and his breathing hitches as he plunges into her. 

“You’re perfect.” She hears Jughead whisper in a strangled voice near her cheek as he thrusts into her again, this time increasing the intensity. 

“I wanted to do this at the bachelor party,” he purrs at her and she is wild with the knowledge that he has been thinking about this. He drives into her as he whispers his fantasies in her ear, the sensations and sensual words making Betty cry out. “I wanted to sweep you into my arms, tear off that sparkly thing you had the audacity to call clothing and ravish you against a wall. Your legs looked insanely good in that…”

Betty feels delicious; her whole body alight with need from Jughead’s words, the depth of amazement in his eyes and the feel of his hard cock driving into her with a toe-curling pace. 

“You should have,” she gasps, “I would have – oh!”

“You would have let me?” he hisses as he thrusts into her with building ferocity. She hears herself keening as she clutches at Jughead’s muscular back, enjoying his groans becoming more and more laboured as the pressure mounts. She is aware of how hard she is squeezing him, desperate for release from the molten heat that is building. 

“Oh fuck Betts, you have no idea how much I have wanted to do this,” he groans frantically and she feels him flare inside her; grow thicker and harder and she cries as the ache within becomes impossible. 

“Scream for me, Betty,” Jughead whispers darkly, catching Betty’s gaze and she feels as if she has suddenly being flung off a cliff, falling into his impossibly blue eyes and shattering around him as she cries her release. 

Jughead croons praise in her ears as the aftershock of her orgasm ripples through her as he comes with a deep groan, stroking her hair lovingly as he thrusts into her for a final time. 

Once they have caught up with the reality of the situation, breathless and flushed, Jughead whispers, “You’re utter perfection.”

Betty feels her body suffuse with a warm glow and she whispers back through panted breaths, “Likewise Juggie.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Jughead asks softly.

Betty smirks, “If I can do more than just kiss you.”

Jughead rolls his eyes and says jokingly, “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

Betty stretches underneath him and he groans. “Nope, never ever.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles before pulling her against him for a searing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dying to hear your thoughts, imma be stalking the comments as usual.


	12. A Dramatic Flare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to **redcirce** for the idea for Alice’s joke at the breakfast table.

The next morning when Betty awakens, she's surprised to find Jughead’s arms encircling her. Memories from the previous night come flooding back and a thrill courses through her as she recalls their entire night of teasing, sex and pleasure. And now, she's pressed against his warm hard, body.

As if someone has flipped a switch, she feels heat curl in her lower belly and pool deliciously between her legs, and she knows she’s ready again. 

_Oh my god,_ she thinks, her face flushing in delight, _I can't believe I finally had sex with Jughead Jones! All my years of fantasies came true…_

Betty tries to shift in his arms, wanting to turn around and face him, but Jughead holds onto her tighter, murmuring in his sleep as he pulls her flush against him.

“Mmm stay where you are, Betts,” he whispers sleepily, into her hair and languidly kisses her neck. “I like you right there.”

She moans in pleasure and can't help but arch against him. A bolt of electricity shoots through her as Betty feels him harden against the curve of her ass. Jughead kisses her again, more insistently this time, trailing his mouth up her neck to under her ear.

“My Betty,” he hums possessively, voice delectably rough from sleep, “Good morning gorgeous.”

His hands flutter up her midsection, across her torso and find their way to the soft seams underside her breasts. She gasps softly when he strokes her with feather-light touches. 

He traces delicate little circles under her breasts and she sighs louder, snaking her hand up to cup the back of his head, pulling him closer to her as she arches further against him, pushing back against his erection. 

In a fluid movement, his hands reach up to cover her breasts and she moans loudly as he massages her deftly with his fingers, sending a tingling sensation all over her skin.

She can feel his hardened length rub in the cleft between her ass cheeks, recalling only now that she refrained from putting underwear back on after last night’s coupling. At this moment, Betty is alight with want, feeling how much Jughead is ready to go again. 

“Yes Juggie,” she whispers, encouragingly, wanting him to go further. 

His hands still at her breasts and she hears him gasp at her ear.

“Oh fuck, Betts,” he says, voice clearer now and with a tone of apology laced in it. “I'm so sorry, I was half asleep…”

“What are you apologizing for?” she purrs at him, shifting her hips so that she caresses his erection again. He hisses in her ear and tightens his hands at her breasts, making her moan softly. She concedes, “You had better not be stopping Jughead Jones, because you'll have to apologise for that.”

She delights in his breathy chuckle that ghosts the shell of her ear and rubs her legs along his, moaning in anticipation. 

“I can’t resist you for long,” he whispers and she moans at his words.

His fingers brush her taught nipples, and he gently plucks at them, kissing her neck and Betty can feel herself get wetter.

The hand over the top of her runs the length of her torso, from breasts to her thighs and she shudders, feel Jughead's fingers caressing her hip and ass.

Betty hums in pleasure as his fingers trace a line down her cheek and brush against the pooling moisture at her entrance from behind her.

“You’re dripping wet,” he purrs and his filthy words make her hot all over. She gasps aloud trying to seek more his fingers, wanting them inside her. 

He ignores her and traces his fingers further up, circling her clit slowly and gently before gliding back down to dip slightly into her pussy. 

“Jughead,” she says breathlessly, and he slides his fingers inside her slowly. It feels so good, yet it’s also pure torture! She tries to move her hips, and is rewarded as Jughead curls his fingers inside her. 

Betty cries out, pressing herself back up against Jughead hand, as his other hand grabs roughly at her breasts, fingers digging into the skin.

He curls his fingers inside her again, and she turns her head back to look at his face. She is again floored by how gorgeous he is: dark hair curling over his pale cheeks. But what makes her breath hitch is his expression: his eyes are dark as he watches her, a lazy smile playing about his lips as he enjoys this languid pace.

“Are you enjoying this Betty?” he asks her, voice impossibly soft in her ear.

She cries out as he curls his fingers inside her again. “Yes, Juggie – ah - I am…”

He hums in pleasure and his fingers pull at her nipple while he presses his other two fingers inside her. “Good,” he hisses, “I want you to have a good time.”

“I will have a better time if I get you inside me,” she blurts out, surprising herself with the vehemence in her voice. 

His fingers still and he splutters a laugh at her ear.

“What?” he says, incredulously.

“You heard me,” she hisses through gritted teeth, pushing through her discomfort, owning it, “You know what I want.”

Jughead makes this cute embarrassed sound behind her and the hand inside her flexes involuntarily. She cries out, feeling victorious, and rolls her hips against him.

“Yes, I heard you,” he affirms and slowly slides his fingers out of her taking care to run them along the length of her folds, wetness coating her upper thighs.

She can feel Jughead pulling away from her, reaching for a condom, and she turns her head towards him slightly and says, “Don't bother, I'm on the pill. Just go for it.”

He makes a strangled sound in her hair and she can feel the tip of his cock brush against her slicken pussy.

She cries out, trying to slide herself down his length, wanting desperately to feel him inside her, hot and hard.

Jughead guides himself in to her with his hand groaning in pleasure he enters her, other hand smoothing the skin along her hip, holding her still.

The feel of his thick cock stretching her makes her body shiver in delight and she moans pathetically, arching her back, pushing her hips down further and further until she can feel his entire length inside of her.

“Oh my god, Betty,” Jughead moans, his voice laced with arousal. The roughness of his voice coupled with the searing length of him inside her makes her cry out for more. 

Jughead starts to move inside her slowly at first, running his hand up and down her stretch of thigh up to caress her breast. She whimpers when that same hand travels back down her stomach and down to circle her clit. 

Betty’s whole body is alight with a tingly, fiery sensation, and all of it is centred on Jughead’s cock inside her. She's aching, trying to move to build the friction inside of her, keening with pleasure as Jughead thrusts into her. She feels impossibly delicious as his hands caress her body and circle maddeningly over clit, taking her higher and higher. 

“Betty,” he moans into her hair, and the sound of his desperation makes her wetter, “I'm not going to last very long if you keep doing that.”

“What, this?” she asks cheekily, swivelling her hips downwards.

“Fuck – yes!” Jughead hisses emphatically and thrusts into her with force. She hears herself moan deeply as he buries himself deep in her aching quim. 

“Good to know,” she says with strangled tones, rewarded with the feeling of him getting even harder inside of her. 

He holds her tightly, his arms a vice around her body to prevent her from moving. She wriggles in his arms and he groans, “Seriously, you have no idea how amazing it is to wake up to you.”

She cries out brokenly, feeling wanted and delicious, her whole body on fire with need as he holds her firmly against him, thrusting hard inside her. 

The pressure inside of her is building, Jughead’s cock stroking her with such hardness, pushing her further and further. She scrabbles ineffectually at his strong forearms, hearing her pathetic whimpering and delighting in his half-snarl half-smirk as he drives into her with increasing pace. 

“You’re so hot and tight Betty,” he hisses and she squirms against him, hearing his rumbling sounds of pleasure as they are ripped from his chest. “Fuck…”

She hears her voice as she starts keening loudly, hoping that no one is walking past Jughead’s room at this point because she’s screaming on every stroke, deliciously achy and so high. 

Jughead chuckles and puts his hand over her mouth, which she bites on immediately, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as her teeth take hold. He thrusts into her insistently and she can hear the obscene sounds of wetness coming from her as he slides into her. She moans against his hand and licks his palm. 

“Betts…”

His grip tightens on her and pressure inside her is too great; she feels like she’s going to shatter. Her moans are half sobs as she comes apart in his arms as he thrusts into her again, letting out a keening cry. 

She hears Jughead’s pained, animalistic growl and feels his hot breath at her neck as he follows her, hand flying from her mouth to her hips as he comes. 

She moans as she feels his cock throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm. 

“Fuck,” he whispers succinctly into her hair. She can't help but giggle. 

“What?” he says with a tone of laughter in his voice. He hands her some tissues and she nods in gratitude, hissing slightly as he pulls out of her slowly. 

“Oh nothing,” she responds, still giggling, “You're just really adorable.”

“Adorable?” Jughead says in mock indignation. She turns her head to face him, watching in amusement as he gestures to his naked, muscly body. “Not devastatingly handsome? Great in bed? Hot rig?”

She laughs, “Yes of course all of those things!” Then she hums, running her eyes over his physique, “But also adorable.”

“Says you!” he says, somewhat petulantly, lying on his back and folding his arms over his chest. She stares at his arms for a moment, lost in the memory of how he carried her to bed last night.

Betty unceremoniously throws the used tissues on the floor. Jughead watches her actions with amusement in his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Says me?” she prompts, turning towards him, running her fingers up his chest.

He grits his teeth and says as if pained, “Oh yes, you're definitely adorable.”

“Explain to me how,” Betty whispers sweetly and climbs on top of him, straddling him.

She watches Jughead’s eyes as his gaze rakes over her naked body, lingering on her breasts. He runs his hands up the length of her legs, up her belly to cup her breasts in his hands.

“Well,” he says, eyes roaming over her body, still speaking through gritted teeth, “For starters: your big gorgeous green eyes, whenever they stare at me like that I just want to give you everything…”

He at looks a bit embarrassed at this admission and refuses to meet her gaze.

“Everything?” she says watching in delight as her words filter through his consciousness and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

She takes great pleasure in running her hands up from his abs to his shoulders, leaning forward as she does so. Betty lets her breasts brush against his chest as she kisses him softly and slowly.

He moans into her mouth and she feels incredibly powerful as his cock twitches against her, beginning to harden again. 

“What else about me is adorable, Juggie?” she asks between kisses. He moans into her mouth and she quivers with delight. His hands brush back her hair and he stares longingly into her eyes.

“Adorable is probably not the right word,” he admits and his cheeks flush, “Irresistible maybe?”

“Mmm,” she hums again and pushes her hips backwards watching his eyes widen in response as she slides over his erect cock. “Again?” she asks with an innocent expression on her face. He chokes slightly and she takes that as violent agreement. 

She pushes herself upright and positions him at her entrance. 

“Hands above your head,” she requests and he obliges with a smirk on his face, folding his hands underneath his head. He watches her through hooded eyes. “No touching,” she orders him, “Or I will go find your work handcuffs.”

He gasps at her words and she can feel him pulse against her. She thinks he mouths the word “fuck” as his eyes flutter closed for a moment. 

She slowly slides herself down his length, revelling in his involuntary hiss of pleasure, as if she has torn it directly from his throat.

Betty gently rolls her hips against him, and his eyes find hers, hands moving from behind his head to her hips, holding her against him. She cries out as his hips jut upwards, thrusting deep into her, hitting her g-spot.

“Hey!” she complains, “I thought I was doing the work!”

He thrusts his hips again, his cock filling her completely. She keens in pleasure in and she pitches forward as he increases the intensity of his movements, hands firmly on her hips, watching her body move against him with a glazed look in his eyes.

He rocks her back upright, eyes on her breasts as she arches back for his viewing pleasure. He moans and moves his hands from her hips to her breasts, and his fingers stroke her nipples to stiff peaks. 

“You are glorious, Betty,” Jughead whispers at his dark eyes rake over her arched body. “Are you even real?”

She wants to admonish him, wants to joke again about the handcuffs again, but the burn between her thighs is so delicious and the feel of his hands on her breasts is driving her crazy, so she just gasps against him. “Yes, Juggie, very real.”

He moans piteously and his hands grip her breasts more firmly. She loves the feeling of his desperately grasping fingers and how they dig into her soft flesh as she moves on his cock. 

One hand curls into her hair, gripping her hard as he snaps his hips up, thrusting into her. She moans desperately and Jughead gives her a smirk that’s so gorgeous she wants to cry. He thrusts into her again, hissing out his pleasure.

“Fucking irresistible,” he purrs at her and she comes undone, shuddering on top of him, half-whispering half-screaming his name she falls to his chest. He thrusts inside her hard, crooning softly into her ears as he comes inside her. 

“Oh my gorgeous, irresistible Betty,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly soft. She folds on to his chest, breathing in his scent and trying to slow her erratic heartbeat. 

She mewls in pleasure against him, enjoying the rumble of his voice course through his naked chest. They lie together in silence for a moment, Jughead seemingly content to stroke her hair. 

“What time is it?” she asks, softly after a few minutes. 

“Probably around ten,” he responds, still tenderly stroking her hair, “Why?”

“We should probably get up and have breakfast with the rest of the bridal party – you know make an appearance and not arouse suspicion…” she smiles slightly as he smirks at the word “arouse”, “Also, we probably want to eat before the kitchen closes for the morning.”

His stomach growls, as if in response to her words.

Jughead kisses her softly, a smile on his lips, “You always know just what I need.”

~~~

Betty manages to successfully sneak back into her bedroom without anyone noticing. She and Jughead both decide to show up to breakfast independently and act as if nothing happened. She quickly dresses in a green sundress and touches up her tired (thoroughly ravished and super smug) face with makeup before going to meet the rest of her family in the breakfast hall. 

Charles and Kevin are both sitting at a table alone together, clearly hung-over but with self-satisfied expressions on both of their faces. Betty spies the table filled with the Coopers and Joneses: both her parents and Jughead’s are cackling with laughter over something, passing each other assortment of condiments and bowls of whipped butter across the table. FP catches her eye as she walks in and pulls finger-guns at her, which is highly alarming.

Betty can feel herself flush under FP’s calculating stare and rushes to the breakfast table. 

She is so not ready for this.

All she wants to do is delight in the glorious sensations of that past twenty-four hours and revel in the fact the _Jughead Jones wants to sleep with her_ and now she has to pretend like everything is normal in front of both sets of parents. 

_Damn retirees,_ she grumbles to herself. _Get some real hobbies!_

Betty makes a big show of deliberating between the different breakfast options, biding her time so that her nosey parents, or worse Jughead’s parents, don’t catch her out. She hopes that if anyone is to speak to her this morning, it’s her dad. She can always throw Hal off with questions about words or discussions on the representation of minorities in the news. 

Betty settles for bacon and eggs with a slice of toast slathered in butter. Once she's satisfied with the plate she’s made herself, and figures that she has wasted as much time as possible at the breakfast table, she takes her food and full cup of coffee to sit with Charles and Kevin.

“Good morning you two,” she says with a smile, “Congratulations again on your marriage!”

Charles gives her a big grin, “Thanks Betty. We are so freaking happy.”

“And you both deserve everything and more. When does your plane leave for the honeymoon?” she asks.

Kevin says in a rough voice, “A couple of hours actually. We really need to get our shit together and pack.” 

“Are mum and dad driving you to the airport, Charles?” Betty asks, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Yes,” Charles says with an adorable dimpled smile, “Considering we're all leaving at roughly the same time it makes sense for us all to go together. Then you and Jughead can be alone.”

Given her mind is on Jughead’s body and what he was doing to her this morning, it takes a moment for Charles’s statement to filter through her consciousness. 

“Oh my god, you know?” Betty squeaks, cheeks flaming.

Charles grins widely, “Of course I know! I'm a goddamn FBI agent, Betty, give me some credit! Plus, I kind of saw you two “dancing” last night in the courtyard.”

He uses air-quotes and that somehow makes the whole thing more embarrassing, because they _were just dancing._

“Damn, I thought we were being so discrete,” Betty laments, hands over her face in shame.

Kevin laughs loudly and then clutches his head in pain. “Wow, I really shouldn't be so smug, it’s hideously painful,” he says, almost to himself and then continues, “You two, discrete? You've got to be kidding me. Despite the fact that this little dance has been going on for years before I was even on the scene, you have been increasingly close over the past few days. Plus, I have it on good authority that you both went home together after the bachelor party.” 

Betty freezes and looks between Charles and Kevin in shock. 

“Goddamn JB,” she snarls, fists clenched. “What a rat.”

“We have a pride chat group Betty,” Kevin says smugly and then turns to Charles and says, “Oh, we should add Veronica to that now.”

Charles gives her a warm smile. “Don't worry about it Betty,” he says softly, “I've known that you've liked Jughead for a really long time. I'm glad to see that you finally figured it out. He has just been freaking out about it quietly for a while.”

Betty feels a bolt of electricity go through her at these words, thrilled that Jughead has been thinking about her for a while (as long as she has?). “Oh!” she exclaims. 

“I would define it more as _seething_ or _brooding piteously._ ” Kevin says with a smirk before he takes a swig of coffee, “And that’s just because I’m in such a wonderfully charitable mood this morning.” The look Kevin gives Charles is very X-rated. 

Betty takes a mouthful of coffee so that she doesn't have to participate actively in this embarrassing conversation. 

When Charles tears his gaze from Kevin’s, he looks like he is going to ask her something else but then Jughead walks into the breakfast hall looking deliciously rumpled, his hair still mussed from their earlier activities. Betty wants to card her fingers through his hair again and listen to his purr of pleasure.

When he catches her eye he gives her a crooked grin and lowers his head adorably, his hair falling across his face and into his eyes as if it’s a shield. She can't help but smile back; he’s so beautiful. 

Kevin and Charles, who both have their backs to Jughead at this point, watch her with pointed smiles plastered on their judgmental faces.

When Jughead finishes in choosing his breakfast, he slides into the seat next to her and smiles radiantly at Charles. He looks so happy that even Charles grins in amazement, watching as Jughead happily tucks into his food like it’s the best meal he’s ever laid eyes on. 

Betty feels all shivery as she stares at him and the utter delight that is emanating from his being. She has never seen Jughead so effortlessly content, it’s magnificent. To know that she played a starring role in that feeling is positively intoxicating.

For a moment she gets choked up, tears welling in her eyes and she thinks to herself; _Confess your eternal love for him, do it!_

His thigh brushes hers and she almost gasps aloud, remembering exactly how much they had touched last night (and earlier this morning). Jughead watches her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eyes, fighting the giant smile that keeps blooming. 

_I make Jughead Jones_ glow with radiance. _Oh my gosh…_

“Congratulations man,” Jughead says, that huge smile still on his face, “I wish you all the happiness in the world. I'm sure you'll have an amazing honeymoon.”

“Thanks Jug,” Charles says sincerely, but there is a twinkle in his eye that promises trouble, “I am sure that you will have an equally amazing time in Riverdale.”

Jughead nods contentedly into his coffee and Betty is delighted by how often he looks at her, like his eyes are magnetically drawn to her form, “Mmm yeah.”

Kevin coughs and laughs at the same time, sending dregs of his coffee flying. Jughead doesn’t even notice; he’s too busy staring at Betty. 

Charles looks innocently at Jughead, “Oh so you are staying? I wasn't sure, but thanks for confirming it for me.”

Betty shakes her head at Charles teasing Jughead, but is secretly vindictively glad that someone has been making him squirm while JB has been harassing her.

Jughead looks at Betty with puppy-dog eyes and she melts a little before shrugging nonchalantly.

Jughead slowly turns back to Charles and says through gritted teeth, “Yes I'm staying for a few extra days for some R&R. Like you said, I'll just be going back to paperwork in D.C., so there's no point in me cutting these holidays short just to fly back to bureaucracy.”

“Ahh,” Kevin says, nodding his head as if he doesn't believe a single word that Jughead is saying. “I’m no FBI agent Charles,” he says, slyly, “But that seems to me like a lie.” 

Charles laughs in agreement, “I guess we don't need a polygraph for that one.”

Betty can’t help but giggle.

~~~

Jughead's face is flaming as he faces down the worthy opponents of annoyingly-astute Charles and king-of-instigating-shit Kevin, who are both smug and excited to fuck shit up before they fuck off on long holiday so they don't have to look him in the eye for the next few weeks.

He’s so insanely happy, he can feel himself grinning like a complete idiot with zero self-control, but every time he looks at Betty his mind provides him with all the delicious images of their love-making and he is reminded how _perfect_ she is and how incredibly lucky he is. 

Betty is staring at him with an expression he desperately wants to interpret as love and he’s so fucking _lovesick_ that he’s chanting in his head; _Betty Cooper, you’re the love of my life, be mine forever. You’re everything to me._

Jughead tries to tear his eyes from her exquisiteness and is about to start eating when his goddamn parents and Betty's parents sweep in on their tables like the gossip vultures that they are. Perfect day ruined immediately.

“Good morning my darlings,” Gladys says with a huge smile on her face, “How are we all doing today? Everyone’s heads okay?”

“Good thanks Gladys!” Charles says and Kevin nods. Charles, the scoundrel, then grins directly at Jughead and says, “I seem to have missed you last night though, Jughead. What time did you leave for bed?”

Jughead feels a bolt of panic shoot through him. No way is he going to escape this conversation unscathed. “After the dancing,” he says, hoping he sounds convincing.

Kevin nods smugly and gives him sarcastic thumbs up. _Okay so that didn't work._

“What about you Betty, darling?” Alice asks, looking softly at her daughter. 

Betty smiles at her mother radiantly and lies through her teeth, “Oh, I was with JB and Veronica, and I lost track of time. I have no idea when I left.”

Charles leans across the table and stage-whispers to him, “You know that you could learn something from her. That’s some well-practiced vagueness.”

He hopes in vain that no one else hears that little comment.

“Well, he could certainly learn to dance from Betty,” FP says smugly. No such luck then.

“What are you talking about?” interjects Betty, with a note of frustration in her tone, “Jughead is an excellent dancer.” She flushes as she looks at him.

“Is he?” FP says thoughtfully. Jughead wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Then FP turns to Betty and says, “No waffles?”

Betty flushes to the roots of her hair and Jughead wonders what about that particular breakfast food has made her so flustered. 

“FP,” she whines, eyes pleading. FP relents because he loves Betty. Well, who doesn’t?

Gladys steps in and somehow manages to make the whole thing worse. “Oh FP, you rascal, leave my second daughter alone! Can’t you see she’s exhausted?”

“Mmm,” FP concedes, biting the inside of his mouth like Jughead has seen him do so many times before. He’s already on edge from the gleam in his father’s eyes.

Alice turns her sharp eyes on Betty and says, “Oh honey, didn’t you get any sleep last night? You were so tired already!”

Betty’s eyes are wide and mortified and she looks to Charles for help. 

Kevin snorts into the remains of his coffee and says unhelpfully, “I’ll wager that she didn’t get any sleep at all.”

Betty makes a furious hissing noise, like a cat that has just been stepped on. 

“Kevin,” she says, her voice all sweet threat and Jughead is surprised to find that it turns him on a bit, “Are you forgetting how indebted you are to me for this extravaganza?”

Kevin looks admonished and shakes his head, giving her a mock bow. “Of course not, Betty. You are queen and I am so sorry.” 

“Good,” she says simply and then smirks at him. 

“Come to think of it,” FP interrupts, chewing thoughtfully on piece of toast slathered in peanut butter. “Son, you look really tired too. Did you get any sleep?”

“Ah but isn’t he glowing?” Gladys coos, looking at him with such happiness that Jughead is torn between deathly mortification and contentment.

Both sets of parents turn to scrutinise him and nod at whatever expression is on his face. Jughead casts his gaze to Betty and she looks like she is trying super hard not to laugh at him. 

_What the sweet fuck is this new form of torture?_

“In a similar vein, did you hear Jughead is staying in Riverdale?” Charles, the _unbelievable_ scoundrel, asks his parents.

“Charles!” Betty snaps, but her smile ruins the whole thing. Charles, at least, has the decency to look ashamed. 

It is too late, however as both sets of parents grin in delight at his extreme discomfort. Jughead has never wished for a natural disaster to take him out more than he does in this moment. 

“Is this true, Jughead?” Gladys asks, her eyes alight with some unnamed emotion.

“Yes mom,” he growls through gritted teeth, “Just trying to get some more holidays in before I have to go back to do paperwork.”

“Isn't that lovely?” Alice says placidly, but her eyes are gleaming, “Well since you're around this morning you can help us clean the venue and pack up.”

Jughead is keen for literally anything that will get him out of this horrible conversation and nods. “Of course, Alice, anything.”

“Good.” She claps her hands together once. “You can help Betty then, while my _other_ son-in-law recuperates.”

Jughead nods once and turns back to his meal like it is the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Alice!” He hears his dad snort. “Good one.”

When they leave, her words filter through his consciousness and he’s screaming internally and avoiding the gaze of every person at his table. 

~~~

Later, Jughead helps Betty pack up all of the birdcages and lights that she had so carefully strung up over the previous couple of days. She sighs a little at the amount of effort and love that was poured into this wedding, and feels sad that it is all over now; the guests long gone, the decorations the last physical remnant of the most beautiful day she’s ever experienced.

Yes, admittedly a large part of that sentiment is coupled with a growing sense of uncertainty as to where her and Jughead are concerned; what will happen now? She knows he agreed to stay around and help her with her case, but she can’t imagine that will take up too much of his time, so she wonders how he plans to spend the rest of it…

Also, it remains to be seen exactly _how_ he will help her with her case? Will they investigate together? Will he investigate and ask her to provide him with background details? She hopes that there will be some excuse to keep him closer than just a few consultations. 

Betty closes her eyes briefly and counts slowly to ten. 

She wants him, and she knows she can trust her instincts, because the look in his eyes last night and this morning was sheer _enjoyment_ so she knows that if she asks, he will probably sleep with her again. 

So it is in the realm of possibility then, that this whole investigation could be improved with an FBI agent with benefits… Does such a thing exist? She considers her meagre collection of practiced seduction techniques and the porn she’s watched over the years, hoping that it will guide her at least in the initial “getting him to take his pants off” phase. 

She packs a few more lanterns in the large box she is carrying, and proceeds to take to her car, which is parked around the back of the venue in the staff car park. 

Betty drove it here yesterday for the photos, and to make sure that she could carry back all the additional decorations after the wedding. She knows that a large portion of the clean up and packing away will rest on her shoulders as Alice, Hal, Gladys and FP are all leaving soon for their trip to Alaska. 

She grits her teeth and vows to herself that when she gets married ( _hopefully to Ju… no, don’t get your hopes up, Betty_ ) that Charles and Kevin will do the bulk of her decorations for her. 

Although, she is just jealous that Charles and Kevin are now going to spend ages alone in Portugal in the height of summer, trekking, swimming and spending quality time together. She envies their ability to travel, though she still feels grateful that she gets to spend time with JB and Veronica… and now, Jughead.

Jughead… She can hardly believe how many times that she and Jughead had sex in the last twenty-four hours… She shivers in delight as she remembers what it felt like to have his body against hers, and hopes that whatever happens that her body will remain imprinted with the memory of his skin against hers, the feel of his cock inside her and his gorgeous mouth on hers. She almost wishes she could go back in time for a do-over but then resolves that there is no way he’s going back to D.C. without sleeping with her at least once more.

Betty picks up the box and walks through the quiet stone pathways leading from the Convent to the staff car park. The car park is notably empty, save for her car, parked alone in the back corner. She starts walking up the stone steps, making her way to her vehicle. 

“Hey,” she hears Jughead call out for her from behind.

She turns around, a smile alighting her face and her whole body fizzing with warmth at the look in his eyes.

“We've got the room for another hour…” he says, blushing slightly and then rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as if he can’t exactly believe the words he just uttered. 

Betty’s ears prick up. “Ohh, should we go again?”

Jughead snorts a laugh, “Wow, that's romantic.”

Betty pokes her tongue out and says, “You didn’t seem to mind much what I was saying, or doing for that matter, last night.”

Jughead scrunches his face adorably at her words, eyes searching hers. Obviously seeing something resembling amusement, he smirks, “Well, you didn’t seem to mind so much when I just threw you over my shoulder…”

She giggles and blushes at his words. “Okay, okay, you got me! I like you picking me up! Fine! You have really nice arms and I like them around me.”

Jughead laughs in delight and she decides she’s in love with the sound.

“Can I help you with that?” he asks with his gorgeous, crooked grin.

“Yeah sure,” Betty says, smiling back, “The keys are on the top of the box – do you mind opening the car for me?”

He walks over to her and reaches over the box to run his hands through her hair. He cups the back of her head and pulls her in to a messy kiss, his coffee-flavoured mouth moving against hers, softly and lazily in the hot, late morning.

Betty sighs in delight and accuses him, “You're just doing this so I can't use my hands!”

“Guilty as charged,” he grins at her and then jokes, “But I could take you up on your suggestion to get my work cuffs?” 

She blushes and bites her lip. “I might enjoy that…”

He raises both eyebrows at her, “Might, Miss Elizabeth Cooper? Just “might”?”

“Mmmhmm,” she nods, trying to be cool, but just melting inside. 

He grins again and picks up the keys from the top of the box. He smiles at her as he presses the unlock button.

Suddenly, Betty’s car explodes. 

Everything happens as if in slow motion. Betty is standing upright, staring longingly into Jughead’s eyes and watching the scene from the position of a third party observer. She feels her head whip towards the direction of the car, seeing the wall of flames and thinks, “Oh!”

Jughead spins his body in front of hers, knocking the box out of her hands and holding on to her tightly as he throws them both bodily into the bushes next to the stone steps.

As they fall, Betty feels the shockwave rush over her skin, forcing them backwards. Jughead is on top of her, shielding her from falling debris with his whole body, eyes filled with fear as he stares at her face. 

“Look at me, Betty,” Jughead insists, staring into her eyes. “Don't look at that. Don't pay attention to that, pay attention to me. Are you hurt?”

Betty laughs from the shock, seeing the flaring of flames behind Jughead’s body as he stares at her. 

“What?” she gasps, part horrified but part amused, and she can’t stop giggling.

“Look at me, Betts,” Jughead says roughly, “Please don't pay attention to that.”

“But my car just exploded!” she points out redundantly, as if he weren't aware of the towering flames behind him.

He holds himself on one arm and uses his free hand to stroke her face gently. Making soothing noises, clearly trying to make her feel calm. Her heart is beating erratically and adrenaline is coursing through her body. She’s also aware that she is still smiling in a weird reaction to the shock. 

She's surprised to find that she is simultaneously excited, terrified and insanely turned on from being underneath Jughead’s body with that fierce look in his eyes.

She turns her head and kisses his inner wrist. 

“Betty,” he says softly, watching her with a worried expression, “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head and reaches up her hands around his neck, pulling him into a desperate and reckless kiss, and he moans into her mouth. When she plies his mouth open with her own and their breath mingles, she can feel him hardening against her hip. 

She purrs in arousal, “Let's go again?”

“Betts,” Jughead whispers against her lips, “You’re in serious danger.” 

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and she props herself up, peering over the ledge of the raised car park to her now exploded, flaming vehicle. 

“Oh crap,” she swears and then laughs, surveying the damage. “That’s messed up.” 

Jughead just shakes his head at her incredulously.

“That's it,” he announces with a note of finality in his voice, “I am not letting you out of my sight ever again. Ever again.”

Betty tries hard not to smile at his words and reminds herself that she’s in a life-threatening situation. She hides her face in her hair and grins anyway.


	13. Intervention

“Betty, what is going on?” Val asks on the phone the next day. “We had two federal agents come in and tell us that we all had to evacuate _The Register_ and go to safe places. They said it was based on the Riverdale High case?”

Betty immediately feels guilty and she groans down the line to Val. “Val, this case is honestly insane. I didn't expect to be a person who uncovered a potential drug ring at Riverdale High when starting this particular assignment. But, alas, here we are.”

Val laughs, “Yeah I know. More than anything though I am so, so proud of you. This is the craziest thing to happen in Riverdale - literally ever - this place is the epitome of sleepy boring boondocks. Sure there is the occasional rich person committing white-collar crime, but no one seems to care about that. Plus, people are sick to death of the gang violence in the south – that’s just a political lightening rod. This, this is something very different. A drug ring at Riverdale High? Yes please! I am positively salivating with anticipation at this story. Betty, that's absolutely crazy. I can't believe that I gave this story to you!”

Betty laughs too, relieved that Val is not upset with her for disrupting the entire operations of _The Register_. “I'm so glad that you're not angry with me Val.”

“Betty,” Val says with a stern voice, “I was nearly gunned down in Haiti for trying to expose the UN child sex trafficking ring. Thankfully, I live a life of financial crime and dollars at the moment, which I much prefer because you know how much I love data. But I, more than anyone, understand the kind of thing that you're going through. Of course you need to pursue the story, of course it's dangerous, of course it’s fucked, but above all else: you are going to get the story of a lifetime.”

Val continues, “This is the most action that Riverdale has ever seen in its entire sleepy existence, bar obviously the class war that happened over the chemical industry. Most reporters would kill to have a break like the one that has landed in your lap. You should be so proud that you've shaken the tree hard enough to have people after you. I mean, Helen and I fucking proud of you.”

Betty can feel herself blush, “Oh, well, thank you! I've been feeling really bad about this. I'm so glad that you are all okay and that you're not upset about the changes!”

Val barks out a sharp laugh, “You've got to be kidding me Betty! The only way I'm going to be mad is if the FBI tries to quash your story. Make sure that you are allowed to get the inside scoop because we want to be the one to break this wide open. Don't let them silence you.”

Betty thinks about Jughead's dark eyes and imagines him whispering to her not to write her story due to national security or something, and thinks that its going to take all her resolve to not cave.

“I'll do my absolute best,” she promises, knowing that she will.

“You do this and you can have any internship from any paper in the whole fucking country, I'm sure of it.” Val vows.

Betty has a sinking feeling this is the sort of thing could really come between her and Jughead if she doesn't play her cards right. He was already upset about her breaking in to Riverdale High, the stealing the records and then jingle jangle (which, obviously she didn’t know at the time). Now, he is upset because she almost got herself blown up yesterday. 

After the explosion, Jughead had helped her pack her things and they had driven in his car back to her house to collect her things, and then to his house, firmly planting her bags in his room. “You’ll stay with me until we sort this out,” he had said and then had spent the rest of the day on calls (while watching her like a hawk), presumably to people at work. 

“Call me if you want to talk through story lining, framing, ideas or literally anything else you need help with.” Val says excitedly, “I am so thrilled! Also, I imagine we going to be working from home or from our safe places for the next couple of weeks until this all blows over.”

“Probably,” Betty says and sighs heavily.

“Honestly Betty, please don't feel bad about this. It's really exciting.” Val assures her again, her voice practically joyous. “It is kind of making me miss the action. Anyway, I should really go back to poring over all these documents and this Southside prison financing, but as I said call me if you need anything. And don't let the Feds push you around. To them everything is a fucking national security threat and nothing is in the public interest.”

“Promise,” Betty repeats and hangs up.

When she walks back into the Jones’s kitchen, Jughead is lounging against the bench with a coffee mug in hand. 

“Morning,” he says softly. He has dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Jughead had remained awake most of the night, holding her in his arms, stroking her hair, as if worried she was going to disappear under his watch. 

“Morning,” she responds and he hands her a cup of coffee. 

“Did you sleep alright?” he asks anxiously. 

“I would have preferred to _not_ sleep with you,” she purrs and takes a sip of the black unsweetened coffee, choking slightly at the acrid taste. 

Jughead’s expression is unreadable as he watches her. When he looks away, breaking eye contact, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “We need to discuss what you know about this Riverdale High drug problem.”

“Okay,” she says, slowly. Not exactly what she had wanted to discuss with him.

“I want to know everything that you know about this investigation Betty.” Jughead repeats and starts pacing in the Jones’s dining room, “You've already told me how you found the jingle jangle. I know about the rat. What else do you know?”

_Oooh, hello leverage._

“Jughead,” Betty says, trying not to let a smile rise to her lips, “I want to be super clear with you about your investigation. Given the escalation against me, and the investigation you and your FBI friends are conducting is based on my preliminary findings, I demand to be included in all relevant conversations I will be publishing this story in _The Register,_ when this saga has concluded.”

“You demand?” Jughead asks incredulously, raking his fingers through his messy black hair. 

Betty hides a smile behind her coffee cup. “I do.”

Jughead gives her a flat stare. “You've got to be kidding me, Betty! Someone just tried to have you killed and you want to stay on this case, and continue to report on it? Are you insane?”

Now, Betty can’t help but smile at him. “We've had this conversation before, or one similar enough, Jughead. You know my stance on my work. I'm not going away until I get the response that I'm looking for. This is my story that has blown up - no pun intended - and I wanted to see it through to the end.” 

Jughead’s eyes bore into hers as he pales. “You are actually trying to kill me though, right?”

She sips her coffee nonchalantly, bitterness be damned. 

“Is this some sort of game to you? Or a joke? You do you know that you could have died right? And now you want to dive right back in like there's no problem? Don't care about yourself at all?” His voice rises hysterically at the end and he rakes his fingers through his hair frantically. 

“Geez, you’re good,” Betty smirks, folding her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes, “Did you learn to guilt from Gladys?”

“Ha ha,” Jughead says snidely, punctuating each sound with a twitch of his nose in frustration.

“Jughead,” Betty says, walking right into his personal space and seeing the look of desire flood his eyes before he reigns it in. She looks up at him, pleadingly. “This is super important to me.”

He sighs and shuts his eyes tightly. 

She continues, “This is my chosen career. I have gotten a break, the likes of which reporters don't stumble across often – if ever. Do you know how amazing this is for me? Yes of course I understand that it is dangerous and yes, of course I understand that I could have died.”

She can see his jaw tense at her words, but barrels on before she loses her nerve, “If I stop and think about the fact that I could have died, and that I may not be here anymore… and that I may have left you, JB, Veronica and my family behind… well, I will just fold. I'll crumble.”

She takes a deep breath willing her voice to remain steady, “There's no point in me wandering around thinking about the “what ifs”. The fact of the matter is that I'm here now and I'm fine.”

She takes his hands in hers and says softly, “Plus, you’re with me, so I’m incredibly lucky.”

His eyes fly open at her words, the blue depths dark and roiling. 

Betty tilts her head with an imploring expression on her face. “But this is my story and I want to be involved.” 

She smiles up at him and says sincerely, “Juggie, I trust you with my life. You know that. But, I also trust myself with my life. You have to respect that this is my choice to make.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches and she watches him take a deep breath through his flared nostrils. She says jokingly, “Now, the blackmail portion of my pitch.”

He groans slightly.

“I really want this story. So if you don't help me I will ask Tim or Bryan, or even speak to Charles about it.” His eyes narrow and he stares at her with frustration. They agreed that everything would remain a secret between them (and the FBI). She shrugs and goes in for the kill, “Or, I won't speak to any of them and I'll just sneak out and continue to investigate.”

Jughead gives her an angry look and then buries his face in his hands and laments, “Were you always this goddamn stubborn?”

“Always,” Betty promises him with a small smile. 

He looks at her through his spread fingers and shakes his head; “You really know when you have a man by the balls, huh?”

“It is one of my special talents,” Betty concedes with a smirk.

“Well,” he say, letting his hands fall to his sides helplessly. “I have been told that you're very hard to say no to. And I would loathe for you to be out and about running your own investigation in parallel to the FBI. So you can continue to help and be involved.”

“Juggie, are you serious?” Betty says softly, excitedly.

Jughead gives her a wry grin and folds his arms over his chest. “I do have a few conditions though.”

“Of course you do!” She throws her hands up dramatically. 

“Hey!” he says sharply, pointing at her, “I’m giving you what you want, so let me put some safety guardrails around this, please.”

“Fine,” she hisses back and folds her arms in kind. 

“First, you’re only involved in the conversation, none of the leg work,” Jughead counts off his fingers, looking at her intently. “I am not going to be involved in any of the leg work either to be honest, my primary objective is to make sure that you’re safe.”

“Fine,” she says, lips twitching, already imagining how many different positions of _safety_ she could try to coerce him into.

“Second, if this does turn out to be a drug ring, there will be parts of your story that you won’t be able to – don’t look at me like that Betty, you know I’m right – publish.”

She rolls her eyes. “I will fight you about that.”

He raises both his eyebrows and says, “Of that I have no doubt.”

“Third, there will be part of this investigation that I won’t allow you into, and that will be when it gets too dangerous,” Jughead says and smiles at her glare, “And that will be decided at my discretion.”

She snarls, “I will fight you about that, too.”

He smirks in delight, “Betts, I look forward to it.”

They stand in silence for a moment, both unwilling to make concessions for the other until Jughead clears his throat and says, “Okay, so now we’ve got that settled, do you want to tell me what else you know?”

Betty tosses her ponytail and rolls her shoulders back. She takes a long sip of coffee and sighs, “If I have to.”

“Your end of the bargain,” Jughead grins and chews on his lip thoughtfully. 

“Okay, fine. So the jingle jangle has to be connected to the fainting spell of the cheerleaders at Riverdale High. One of them tested positive for amphetamines and methamphetamines in her tox screen. I don’t know about the others.”

“I remember you said that I was going to make speed cupcakes for my family,” Betty starts. “I was looking it up on the Internet and speed is in the same family of drugs as meth, right?”

Jughead nods, “Yes, that’s right. Do you think the cheerleaders also thought it was sugar crystals or something like you did?”

“I mean,” Betty says, flushing when she remembered how Jughead and JB made fun of her the other day, “It could happen. If I thought that they were sugar crystals then surely someone older, maybe someone who works in the cafeteria could have thought that they were confectionary of some sort and included them in some food from the cafeteria? Like a dessert of some sort?”

“It’s a good theory,” Jughead says, but Betty shakes her head.

“No,” she says, “It’s not. Cheer practise was at four in the afternoon, that’s four hours after lunch; there is no way that if it appeared on cafeteria desserts that it manifested in their system with such a delayed response.”

Jughead looks at her thoughtfully, “Was there any way they could have been together and ingested the stuff before practise?”

Betty shakes her head, “Those girls are all in different classes before then, the would approach the gymnasium from completely different directions.”

Jughead nods and pulls out a small notebook to copy down what she’s saying.

Betty twists her lips, “Look, my guess is that the drug was delivered something innocuous something like cupcakes, but that the girls had access to at the same time?” 

“I mean that could potentially make sense,” Jughead says, “But why only half the cheerleading squad? Why that half? And why would someone want to push to the cheerleading team?”

“I don't know,” Betty says softly, “I'm telling you everything that I know.”

“But,” she recalls aloud, “The CCTV was off the day on the I decided to break in to Riverdale High to take a peak at their administrative records. I thought it was kind of odd at the time. I didn’t say anything, because as the saying goes: don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Now, it makes me wonder whether or not I stumbled into something more sinister then just a custodian or janitor in the kitchen but rather deal of some sort.”

“Probably,” Jughead shrugs, “I mean that seems plausible considering whoever they are, are now trying to kill you.”

“Or scare me,” Betty points out evenly.

Jughead releases a shuddering breath. “Well, colour me fucking terrified, Betts.”

Betty does not react. “But I'm still confused. What about the tox screens of the other girls? Why did it hit Jenny the hardest?”

“Yeah, well you're going to have to leave that to us now, Betty,” Jughead growls, “I have Tim and Bryan coming over here shortly to take your statement. As I said, I won’t leave your side until this threat is behind us.”

She thrills at the dark look in his eyes. Sure, she knows it's dangerous but she can't help but be aroused at the ferocity of his gaze.

“I can't believe you look so excited at this!” Jughead says, somewhat hysterically, “I thought that you would have been more alarmed.”

“I've done a lot of crazy things in my time for a story, Jughead,” smiles Betty and then she confesses, “I'm not about to be afraid of one measly car bomb.”

“So maybe you do have a death wish?” Jughead jokes, but he looks really worried.

“Unlikely,” Betty says primly, “But I am a bit thrilled by danger.”

Jughead glances away and shakes his head.

“What time are Tim and Bryan coming?” Betty asks.

“Oh, shortly,” Jughead says, “They want to get started on this as soon as possible. Plus I think they also just want to talk to you.”

Betty grins and teases, “Who can blame them? I am wonderful.”

Jughead just groans and covers his eyes. 

~~~

Jughead is out-of-his-fucking-mind-worried about Betty. He still can't believe that her car _exploded_ in front of them. They were incredibly lucky that they were so far away at the time. If he hadn’t chosen to press the button while they were at the other side of the car park… he shudders to think what might have happened.

After Tim and Bryan left to canvas her witnesses, Betty announced that she wanted to read by the pool. Loath to let her out of his sight even for a moment, Jughead relents and decides to work outside.

He sits at the table by the pool in the shade tapping away on his laptop. He checks documents, reviews the backgrounds of those involved, assembling thoughts and trying to make sense of all the little threads and leads. Betty had surprised them all by providing them very comprehensive documentation logged in a series of Excel spreadsheets and he hadn’t missed the look of wonder that crossed Bryan’s face at her impressive record collecting. 

Jughead still can't believe that she, of all people, stumbled onto a fucking drug ring in Riverdale. Of all places! Betty Cooper manages to find fucking danger in the sleepiest, quietest place in the whole universe. It just boggles the mind how that girl can find trouble wherever she goes. He used to think it was all JB's fault. Now that he has spent more time with Betty, he understands that trouble just seems to follow her around. She invites it in like a stray cat of the street and gives it a saucer of warm milk and a pat on the head. She’d probably give it a cute name too. 

He hears the sliding door open and looks up as she walks outside. Heat instantly floods him as his eyes glaze over her body. She is dressed in a pale green bikini that looks like a strong wind would tear it from her. How can he sit here and do work when she lounges around on the grass, soaking up sun, looking like that?

She pauses as she walks past and says, “You look a little flushed Juggie, are you hot?”

_Minx! Two can play at this game._

He knows how much she loves his chest.

Jughead pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. “Yeah a little,” he says softly, eyes on hers, “Should I take off my shirt?”

“Probably,” Betty says uncaringly, but he doesn’t miss the way her eyes sparkle in delight. “Heat stroke is a real problem, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” he says and pulls off his shirt, not breaking eye contact.

“Better?” she whispers, her voice a little hoarse.

Jughead smirks, “You tell me.”

She raises one eyebrow and turns away to go settle on a towel in the sun. 

His mouth waters as he watches her spine curve as she sinks down onto the towel. He's already aroused and his fists are clenched in frustration as he watches her through hooded eyes over the top of his work laptop. 

Betty ignores him and turns on a small speaker, playing some summer tunes. She buries her nose in a book. 

He slaps himself and tries to go back to work. 

It's hard. 

~~~

After half an hour, Betty puts down her book and calls to Jughead, “Do you mind if I raid your freezer for Popsicles?”

She's a little miffed when he barely looks up, “Be my guest.”

She sighs heavily (and in annoyance) as she walks past him without so much as a side-glance. Moments later, she returns with a lemonade Popsicle and watches him absently reading her spreadsheet and notes, leaning over his shoulder slightly. 

“Betty,” Jughead says softly, slowly turning his head to look up at her. When they make eye contact she can see the stirring warmth behind his gaze. 

“Mmhmm?” She hums absently; distracted by the way his arm muscles look.

His voice is amused when it reaches her, “Betts, you’re getting lemonade ice lolly all over me.”

Her eyelashes flutter slightly as she turns to where he is indicating; and indeed there is a slivery line of sugary water dripping down his shoulder and collarbone. 

“Oh, how silly of me,” she whispers and is delighted when Jughead’s eyes close briefly. She takes his momentary lapse in mental faculties to climb on the bench seat next to him and straddle him. 

She hears Jughead’s sharp intake of breath as his eyes snap open, heat swirling in his blue gaze and he seems delighted to find her _just so._

“How silly inde-,” he starts, but she catches him off guard by licking the glistening spot on his shoulder. She is rewarded with a pained groan and can already feel how hard he is against her. 

She rolls her hips gently against him and sighs in pleasure as she feels his erection rub against her aching core. He hisses, mostly in pleasure but also as the icy lolly drips on to his upper abs. 

“Let me get that for you?” she suggests cheekily and then hands him the icy treat to keep him occupied while she bends her head forward to trail her tongue down his chest, lazily drawing circles on his skin. 

He makes a muffled sound and she figures he has decided to share her icy lolly, so she takes that as encouragement and continues to lick his skin, revelling in the way that his hips twitch occasionally as he thrusts upwards. 

She feels him run his hand through her loose hair and pull her upright, tipping her head back so she is arching against the table. His eyes are dark and filled with arousal as he stares at her, gaze raking down her nearly naked body. 

His hand travels down her hair and she can feel his fingers across her neck and upper back until he stops. 

“What?” she says, confused.

He raises both eyebrows suggestively and tugs at her bikini string until it gives way. “That’s what,” he says, pushing up the top, exposing her breasts to the warm summer’s breeze. 

She watches him through her lashes and sees his face slowly morph into a smirk as he lowers his mouth to her left nipple. When his lips touch her she squeaks at how cold they are, but he keeps his mouth locked on, holding her in place as she squirms in his lap. 

He moans against her breast, his hot breath scorching her freezing, taut nipple. 

“Ah!” she cries, twisting her body against him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses as she grinds on his erection. He bites her nipple lightly as she wriggles again, the sharpness sending a bolt of heat through her, making her moan. 

Jughead runs the ice-lolly across her right nipple, and she whimpers pitifully as the freezing sensation thrills her sensitive skin. Jughead smirks briefly before he starts to kiss and lave her other breast with his now hot mouth. 

“Oh Juggie,” she hears herself say and he switches sides, the hot and cold sensations driving her crazy as she shamelessly rubs herself against him, desperate for more than external friction.

“Mmm, my Betty,” he purrs against her breast and she gasps at his words, savouring his liquid expression as his eyes meet hers. She watches as his tongue traces over her nipple.

“I want you inside me,” she whispers to him and enjoys the way his mouth pauses over her breast. 

He looks up at her, a crooked smile playing about his lips, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, grasping on his shoulders and levering herself up to kiss him. His lips parted when she brushed hers across his mouth. A whimper rips from him as her chilled, peaked nipples brush his hard chest. 

She loves how easily she can kiss him into breathlessness, and he has discarded the ice lolly to run his hands down her naked back and dance his fingers up her ribs to brush the underside of her breasts. 

He’s gasping into her mouth and she feels insanely powerful as she swings her legs off him and stands up next to the bench chair. 

“Huh?” he says, stupidly. 

She maintains eye contact as she takes off her bikini top, watching Jughead’s mouth part and his Adam’s apple dip rapidly. She licks her lips and runs her hands down her loose waves, over the curve of her breasts and to the edge of her bikini bottoms. 

“Off?” she asks sweetly.

Jughead shakes his head rapidly as if in disbelief and he gasps, “Fuck yes, off.”

She takes her time to shimmy slowly out of her green bikini bottoms, luxuriating in the way Jughead’s eyes darken as he traces the garment descending her legs and then his gaze rakes back up. 

She isn’t prepared for how fast he can move, he is off the bench like a shot, grasping at her desperately in his arms, tongue tracing her neck as his hands dance lightly over her skin. 

Betty senses how wet she is, she can feel it as she squeezes her legs together tightly, trying to alleviate the terrible ache she is experiencing. She runs her hands down his torso and tugs at his shorts, succeeding in pulling them down slightly before she cries out as his fingers brush against her dripping pussy. 

Jughead hums softly in pleasure as he traces a single finger around her clit and then twists the digit, moving down until he slides it inside of her. She keens against him and he kisses her deeply, slowly, torturously, thrusting his fingers inside of her and curling them slightly at the last second – but not enough - before pulling them out. 

She snarls at him and slides her hand into his underwear, hearing his breath stutter against her neck as she strokes her hand over his silky, hard cock. 

“Ah fuck,” he sighs and the profanity makes her arch deliciously against him, pushing his fingers deeper inside of her. “I want to be inside you, Betty.”

She turns her head so they make eye contact and she purrs at him, “But you are, Juggie.”

He snorts and she is pleased to see that she’s surprised a smile out of him. 

“Vixen,” he accuses her, and she grins back. He curls his fingers inside of her and she gasps, tilting her head. She whimpers pathetically when he removes them. 

He smirks and picks her up easily and she wraps her legs around his hips. Betty gasps again as she feels the tip of his cock slide into her slickened entrance. She watches as his eyes flutter closed in pleasure as he slides her down over his hard length. 

She winds her arms around his neck and kisses him messily as he lifts her and slowly lowers her over him. The pace is infuriatingly slow, but Betty loves it, reminded of how she wanted Jughead to “thank” her two weeks ago. 

She bites his lower lip, startling a desperate moan from him, and Jughead holds her tightly in his arms and walks her to her beach towel on the grass. She can feel how hard he is inside her and his movements create tiny little thrusting motions that feel delicious, but also just make her feel keyed up, like she needs so much more. 

He gently kneels on the towel, lowering her smoothly down, his expression one of wonder. She takes the liberty to arch against him and he groans, tracing his hands down her body to settle at her hips.

“I was working you know,” he says through gritted teeth, but she can feel how turned on he is, so just pouts in false commiseration. 

“Oh poor Juggie. I didn’t realise you weren’t enjoying this,” she hisses softly, before smirking.

Jughead matches her smirk and says, “I never said that.” She feels his cock slide out of her slightly before he thrusts into her deeply and she cries out. 

“Yeah?” she gasps, a bit breathlessly as he thrusts into her again.

“You’re the most enjoyable, Betty,” he whispers, tracing his hands lightly over he breasts as he moves inside her, increasing the pace and friction. 

She runs her fingers through her hair, writhing against him as she imagines that he’s been fantasising about her for years, like she has him. 

Jughead holds her hips still, gritting his teeth slightly as he says, “You make me wild.”

She cries out again, seeing the heady dark expression in his eyes as his thrusts increase, brushing against that spot that makes her see stars. 

She wants to ask him more, get him to tell her how much he loves her, but instead her voice comes out as a mixture of soft mewls and keening sounds as she tilts her hips to take him further into her.

“Oh!” he groans, and she feels his fingers grasp her hips more tightly. The feeling of him filling her, the impossibly beautiful look in his eyes pushes her so close to the edge, and she can hear the little gasping noises she is making. 

“Fuck,” Jughead swears above her, “Only you could get me so insanely hard after reading fucking spreadsheets…”

“Shush,” she whispers to him, not wanting to admit how much his weird admin dirty talk turns her on. 

He makes distressed sound as he thrusts into her again, hard. 

She is so close and she wants more, grabbing at his forearms to pull herself against him, keening loudly as he thrusts into her again. 

“Ah, Juggie,” Betty hears herself say as the pressure builds, “I’m going to…” 

He leans over, hands brushing her hair, staring longing into her eyes, “Come with me, Betty.”

She runs her hands up around his neck and kisses him with an edge of desperation, trembling as she remains at the peak, feeling his hard cock thrust into her again. 

She can feel him grow thicker inside of her and can’t help but cry out at the glorious additional friction and Jughead is kissing her face all over before he releases a guttural groan and they crest together, gasping and holding on to each other as they come, staring in each others’ eyes.

“Uhh, that was-,” Jughead says softly at her neck.

“Amazing, beautiful, super hot?” Betty offers sweetly.

He chuckles and slides out of her, his release dripping on to the beach towel below. “Yeah, all of the above. Also unexpected.”

She props herself up on one arm and crooks an eyebrow at him, “Unexpected?”

He looks away, a little sheepishly, “Well I thought it was just a wedding reaction thing.”

She raises both eyebrows at him and reassures him, “Nope, I don’t think so. I find you gorgeous and I want to have sex with you.”

His cheeks redden at her words and she almost crows in victory. 

_Slow, take it slow Betty,_ she tells herself, _Don’t go confessing your undying love for him or anything, he probably wouldn’t appreciate that._

Jughead sighs and wrinkles his nose adorably as if he is trying to prevent himself from smiling. “As much as I hate to say this,” he says slowly, “I really should get back to work.”

“Aw, do you have to?” Betty complains and the look he gives her makes her laugh.

“Yeah Betty, if you want to be safe, I should probably go back to the evidence…”

“But what if this doesn’t go away?” she asks softly, “What then?”

Jughead smirks at her and says, “Well I’m a bit offended that you don’t have faith in my work, but I promise you that I won’t leave your side until this whole situation has been sorted.”

As she looks into his eyes and wants to drown herself in him again, she hopes it will take him a while.


	14. Revealing Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leda ( **breaking_points** ): the joke Tim makes to Jughead I added for you, I hope it makes you laugh :) :)

“So what are you two now?” JB asks the next day. Jughead has _allowed_ JB and Veronica to come over (Betty isn’t allowed to leave the house without him as her armed bodyguard. Betty has been thinking up role-play scenarios for this all morning) and the three of them sit outside on the Jones’s lawn sipping milkshakes from Pop’s.

Betty shrugs and blushes, “I honestly have no idea.”

“He has to love you, surely?” Veronica offers from her position with her head on JB’s lap. Betty wants to squeal with delight at how adorable they are together. 

“Truly, Madly, Deeply,” JB agrees, her free hand stroking Veronica’s hair, a dopey smile on her face. 

Betty shrugs again. “I don’t know. I mean, I’d definitely like to think so, but so far we have just had hot sex-,”

“- AH! SPARE ME!” JB cries, throwing her hands up over her eyes as if Betty is going to start re-enacting it in front of her. 

Betty rolls her eyes. “Well, to be completely fair, you did ask.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want the weird little kinky details of what you two get up to in your spare time,” JB insists, shaking her head vigorously. Her short hair flicks around her face. “Do you want me to talk to you about everything that Veronica and I get up to?”

Veronica makes a small, embarrassed sound from JB’s lap and JB grins at her. 

“I take it Veronica is more concerned than I am,” Betty says dryly. JB rolls her eyes. 

Veronica turns her head slightly and looks at Betty. “JB is the first woman I have slept with,” she confesses shyly. 

“And the last, baby doll, mark my words,” JB says firmly, flexing her arms. 

Veronica giggles and blushes.

Having never had sex with a woman, Betty cannot completely understand, although she does think that it would be a very interesting education in female anatomy, in a completely different way to pleasuring oneself. 

Betty raises both of her eyebrows, “And? Is she any good?”

“Betty!” screeches JB, looking flustered. 

Veronica laughs delightedly. “I’m so glad we can now mess with you JB. This relationship has been so one-sided for years.”

“I’m not sure if I appreciate the new dynamics very much,” JB grumbles and crosses her arms petulantly. 

Veronica turns her head and sinks her teeth into JB’s thigh. JB starts dramatically and cries, “Ow! Veronica!”

“You love it,” Veronica chuckles and Betty is so happy to see her so confident in her new relationship with JB. 

“Yeah, fine,” JB grumps, but her eyes are glowing, “I love it. Sue me.”

“No point, you have nothing of worth,” jokes Veronica, inspecting her nails casually. 

JB pinches her arm lightly, and reminds her, “I have you.”

The look Veronica gives JB is filled with adoration and love. Betty’s heart glows with affection for her friends and their beautiful relationship. 

“You do have me,” Veronica says lightly. “And I have you. So let’s be gentle and let Betty talk about what she’s going through. Unless you want to go be useful and interrogate Jughead?”

JB rolls her eyes again. “I don’t think I will get anywhere with that to be honest.” She puts on her Jughead impersonation voice and says, “I am distinctly disinterested in this topic of conversation, JB.”

“Oh my god, he said that about me?” Betty gasps, her heart clenching a little. 

JB raises one eyebrow, “Yeah but that was before the pool night, the wedding and the fact that your sleeping in the same house now… like what is up with that? I thought you would stay at the Cooper house?”

Betty blushes. She and Jughead had discussed keeping the whole car explosion under-wraps and not tell JB, Veronica or their families. Betty is more than happy with that arrangement, as the last thing she needs was her parents, second parents and her disgruntled brother swooping back to Riverdale to try and protect her from a threat that Jughead, Bryan and Tim could handle. 

So, their cover story for Veronica and JB was essentially that they had started sleeping together. Which wasn’t much of a cover-story really, but Jughead insisted that this would deflect from the danger.

“Well,” Betty blushes and lies through her teeth, “Jughead said he didn’t want to be apart from me, so…”

“So you’re some kind of live-in fuck buddy?” JB asks, incredulous. She shakes her head vehemently. “Veronica, babe, can you get up? I’m going to have a little _talk_ with my bro-,”

The way she said the word “talk” makes Betty think that fists will fly before a single reasonable word is uttered between them. She also has no doubt the Jughead would never raise a hand to his sister, so JB would just be laying into Jughead until she ran out of anger… which admittedly, could take a while. JB has always been fiercely protective of her.

“No!” Betty yells at her, “Please no JB! Just let me do this in my own time. Please?”

“Fine,” JB hisses, hating being left on the sidelines. “What are you planning on doing about it?”

“Uhh,” Betty starts lamely, “Well… I was thinking that he would just sort of fall in love with me and confess after we had sex enough?”

JB and Veronica both slap their hands to their faces and groan loudly. 

“You are so naïve Betty,” Veronica laments, “How are you this bad with guys?”

“What?” Betty interjects, concerned. “That’s how it has happened for me all the times before!”

“HA!” JB cries, “No way! There are so many men who love you that have confessed to you without sleeping with you first.”

Betty shrugs, “Yeah but I thought that the way to a guy’s heart was through his…”

“Dick?” suggests JB crudely, wrinkling her nose in disgust. 

“Libido?” offers Veronica, who was obviously raised in polite society.

“Yeah,” Betty agrees with Veronica, who shrugs. 

“I think that’s a bit of a bullshit lens through which to look at the world, B,” Veronica says simply, and Betty feels the curse word like a flick between the eyes. “I mean, it’s all contextual right? Like sometimes you want just sex – remember that guy you slept with in Italy? – and other times you want the full haul.”

JB nods, “And sometimes, the stars align and both of you want everything.” She looks down at Veronica with a smile on her face. 

“I hope it’s this time,” Betty says under her breath.

“Huh?” JB asks, leaning in, cupping a hand around her ear. “What was that?”

“Nothing…” Betty assures her. “Do you both really think I’m that bad with guys?”

JB and Veronica share looks. 

“Noooo?” Veronica says through a grimace. 

JB laughs, “The only person who is good at relationships in this group is Veronica.”

“Why, because I’m dating you?” Veronica snorts.

JB puffs out her chest and flexes her tattooed arms, “You bet, doll-face.”

Veronica turns her head and nips at JB’s leg again. 

“I don’t think any of us are good at it to be honest,” Veronica concedes.

“Maybe we just needed to be given the right incentive?” JB suggests and the three of them nod in agreement and sip their milkshakes in the sun. 

Once JB and Veronica leave, after making jokes in Jughead’s direction that he firmly ignores, Betty goes upstairs to have a shower and get changed. 

She has to tell Jughead she loves him, and soon. She feels like she’s being slightly duplicitous in taking pleasure from him without confessing her true motivations and feelings. As she stands under the shower, she thinks about how that conversation will go.

“Hey Jughead,” Betty whispers into the shower spray, “I love you.”

“Do you?” Betty-as-Jughead says with a small laugh, “Silly girl, this was nothing more than a summer fling!”

Betty shakes her head. “Not realistic enough. Jughead would never say that to me. Naïve girl, but not silly, especially in that sense. Plus Kevin said he’d been thinking about it for a while…”

She feels hot all over at the thought. 

“Hey Jughead,” she tries again, talking into this spray, “I love you.”

“Thank you.” Betty-as-Jughead says sincerely, “I’m flattered.”

Betty covers her face with her hands and groans, the action making desperate bubbling sounds in her palms. 

“Hey Jughead,” she tries more insistently, “I fucking love you.”

Hearing herself say the work “fuck” turns her on.

“I love fucking you.” Betty-as-Jughead says and then bursts out laughing. 

“This is so stupid Betty,” she tells herself and decides to sing pop songs at the top of her lungs to block out the sound of her internal screaming. She finds they don’t work as well as the Serpents’ tracks for quelling out inner turmoil and begins to understand why so many people like metal music. 

Once she is done with her shower and has spent an extraordinary time moisturising her body and brushing her hair, she goes back to JB’s room, wrapped in the towel and sits on the bed. It feels too hot to put on all her clothes and she is definitely thinking about seducing Jughead again. She chooses some of her nicest pink lingerie and puts it on, enjoying the feeling of the lace against her skin.

Content to take her time, Betty opens up her phone and kills time on Instagram. She has been a little _preoccupied_ of late, so it’s nice to catch up on what her friends are doing. She enjoys looking at the photos of their lovely summer holidays. 

As she scrolls through Instagram, she sees a photo of Chrystal Bui running through a sprinkler in her bikini. She had followed Chrystie as social payment for her interview help the other week, but hadn’t really awarded her that much attention to her photos beforehand. She idly clicks into her profile and scrolls through her posts. Chrystal has some lovely photos, and most of them seem like vodka mixer commercials: sun, fun, hot girls and laughter. Betty realises that she’s scrolled back a fair way and is looking at some of Chrystie’s old cheerleading photos, reminiscing about her own days in the River Vixens. There was a particularly cute photo of the team holding up snicker doodle cookies, presumably in their spirit box creation. 

Suddenly, the idea hits Betty like a bolt of lightening: Spirit boxes! The cheerleaders would have all done a “enjoy your summer” or “good luck in college” spirit box for the players on the Bulldogs football team, leaving an assortment of sweets in their lockers. What if someone had actually intended the drugs to go to the football players instead of the cheerleaders being the target? And the cheerleaders had just been collateral, thinking that the jingle jangle was coloured sugar, possibly consuming the leftovers?

Betty remembered back to her cheerleading days and recalled that they all made spirit boxes together in home economics. She wonders whether or not the home economics teacher knew what the jingle jangle was?

She gets up off the bed and not caring to put on more than throwing the pale pink bridesmaid robe over her shoulders as she runs downstairs to explain to Jughead about her latest theory.

~~~

Jughead is talking to Tim and Bryan about their latest development in the case; apparently some of the cheerleaders had mentioned that their boyfriends had also experience “fainting” spells, although none had completely lost consciousness. 

“Those guys are all on the football team,” Tim points out, checking his notes, “One of them was actually a footballer’s younger brother, who just happens to be best friends with one of the girls.”

“So you think it’s recreational again?” Jughead asks, arms folded.

“Not entirely,” Bryan says, “It seems to be centred around the cheerleading team, but it’s almost like people who come in contact with them were affected by it. The drugs have to be moving through the cheerleaders somehow.”

“Jughead!” Jughead whips his head around when he hears Betty call him. She bounds down the staircase and he winces internally as he sees what she is wearing (or not wearing) as she skitters into the kitchen with her long legs. 

“Hi Betty,” Bryan says, fighting a smirk.

 _Back off!_ Jughead wants to growl and then physically cover her with his body.

“Hi Bryan, hi Tim!” Betty sings and Jughead wishes that she would actually tie her robe together, because they can see her scant lingerie and despite her looking positively mouth-watering, he does not need his work mates involved in this. 

“I now know what you mean when you assured us that you were “hard at work”.” Tim jokes to Jughead out of the corner of his mouth. 

Bryan snorts softly, “Dude you fucking _owe_ us big for covering you on this.”

Jughead rolls his eyes at them and folds his arms across his chest. 

“What’s up Betts?” He says lightly, gritted teeth be damned. 

She holds up her phone and starts bouncing in excitement. 

The bouncing certainly isn’t helping anyone. Jughead hears Tim release a low whistle and his hands a clenched into fists tucked into his underarms so he can’t react to this. It is just Betty. She does what she wants. 

“I think I know how the drugs got distributed through the cheerleading team!” She crows excitedly.

The three guys look at each other and then back at her, bouncing enthusiastically on her toes. 

“Okay,” Jughead says, though gritted teeth, keeping his eyes firmly on her face, “I’ll bite – how?”

Betty explains her theory to the FBI, moving around to show them all the photos on her phone. Jughead feels her brush past him and her proximity drives him spare. Tim and Bryan are both looking a little dazed, but at least they have enough of their wits about them to write down her suggestions. 

Jughead isn’t thinking about the case anymore, his eyes are following the line of lace across her breasts and wishing he could trace it with his tongue. She gives him a winning smile when she finishes and he stops himself from letting out a low moan in response. 

Tim and Bryan are looking at him in abject amusement; apparently this is the first time he’s made a complete dick of himself in front of them. 

“Did you get that, guys?” Jughead asks in a strangled voice. 

Tim nods, grinning at him. “Yeah man, I did. Did you?”

Jughead claps both of them on their respective shoulders and says, “You’re absolutely right. I do owe you.”

Betty looks between them all in bemusement. 

“So you want us to leave and investigate, I’m guessing?” Bryan said with mirth in his tone. 

“Yep.” Jughead made a popping sound with the “p”. “Go get that home econ teacher or whatever. Call me when you have him. I want to be there for the interrogation.”

Bryan bobs his head in a chicken-like motion. “Uh-huh, sure.”

Jughead glares at the two of them.

Tim and Bryan share a glance and chuckle softly. “See you both soon, hey?”

Jughead barely even looks their way as they leave. 

Betty turns to him; head cocked to one side and says, “What was that about?”

“This,” Jughead growls and picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs, back to the bedroom. 

She squeals in delight. He turns his head and bites her thigh lightly as he races up the stairs and tosses her on the bed. She lands sprawled out, with her hair in a mess and he pounces on her, pinning her to the bed. 

“No,” he hears his sibilant voice and decides that no matter how many times he’s had the singular opportunity to pleasure Betty Cooper, it won’t stop him from wanting more. “You have been making me insane.”

His teeth find her neck and he grazes her soft skin delicately revelling in her breathy noises and he pins her hands over her head. “What possible reason would you have to be in lingerie during the day?”

She looks at him like he’s an idiot. He concedes that he probably is.

“To seduce you of course,” she says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. He feels deliciously wanted and impossibly hard. 

Jughead chuckles and kisses her fiercely, enjoyed the way she arches underneath him, pushing her body against his. 

“You just have to ask me,” he whispers darkly at her lips, loving how pink and lush her lips look after he’s kissed them. She is panting and his eyes trace the swell of her breast over the lace, trembling softly with each breath. 

She bites her lip and he grinds against her, revelling in her gasp of pleasure as his erection brushes her lace-covered core. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” she intones breathlessly and he has to tell her that all she needs to fucking do is whistle at him and he’ll be up and ready to go. 

Jughead leaves her hands trapped under one of his own and traces his fingers across her cheek, kissing her softly. She mewls in his mouth and he fucking loves it. 

He trails his fingertips across her jaw, down the length of her neck and across the curve of her breast, enjoying how her breathing gets increasingly laboured as he teases closer to her nipple.

“Oh Betts,” he feels a smirk alight his face as he stares at her in her pink lingerie and says, “I can’t wait to tear this off you.”

She gasps, eyes wide and he can see the heat coil inside them. Jughead is now dead-set on having her on top so she can look at down at him with that molten expression. 

He slides to her side and pulls her on top, taking off her robe so she’s just sitting pretty in her ridiculously sexy lingerie and staring at him hungrily. Jughead curves his hips up slowly to rid himself of his t-shirt.

Betty licks her lips and traces her fingers over his chest, purring in happiness and he’s driving himself crazy thinking that she has to be it, forever.

“But first, let me taste you,” he purrs. 

Like he wanted to do the morning after the bachelor party, Jughead lifts Betty’s hips with ease and guides her to straddle his face. 

She looks embarrassed, and it just won’t do; he loves it when she’s confident and demanding of him… he may need to coax her there. 

“Oh Juggie…” she starts, squirming above him, but he can see how wet she is; moisture glistening on the pink lace and can feel the heat radiating from her. Her thighs brush his cheek and he’s overwhelmed by the scent of her arousal; it’s making him shockingly hard. 

“Betts,” he purrs, watching the way her eyes darken in response to his words, “I’ve been thinking about this, Betts, so will you let me?”

She makes a soft keening sound in her throat and her upper body arches back, so he’s gifted with the curve of her spine and the view of her pert breasts covered in lace riding above him. “Whatever you want,” she murmurs.

“You, Betty Cooper, I want you.”

“Oh!” Betty’s next breath is ragged and Jughead sees the way it tears through her. 

He does not need more encouragement than that. 

Manoeuvring her hips so that she’s better positioned, Jughead kisses the smoothness of her inner thighs upwards until his lips ghost the edge of the lace. Betty keens and rolls her hips against him, which thrills Jughead. 

He licks the edge of the lace and Betty curves back over to stare down at him, green eyes liquid with desire. “Yes,” she hisses and _this_ is exactly what he wanted. 

He presses his lips against her skin and hums, and Betty braces herself on the headboard with a gasp. 

He’s so turned on by watching her reactions to him, delighting in her incoherent murmurs as he pushes the lace aside and kisses her clit. 

Her legs slip on the bedspread beside his head and she pushes herself against his lips. 

_There’s my Riven Vixen._

Jughead traces circles around her bundle of nerves as Betty rotates her hips and breaths raggedly above him. One of her hands cards through his hair and twists painfully in his locks. 

He loves the sweet fire in her eyes and licks and nibbles at her to the litany of singing praises and desperate cries he elicits from her. 

She is grinding herself against his lips and it’s fucking intoxicating how confident and sexy she is. 

“More,” she demands, eyes flashing above him like a goddess, and he will always give it to her. He runs his tongue down her folds and presses it inside her wetness. 

Betty cries in pleasure and rocks her hips against him; he can feel her walls hugging his tongue, and he tilts his chin to delve deeper inside her.

Betty is chanting his name, breathlessly and it’s infinitely more fucking erotic than his fantasies and he grips her hips and pulls her against him as she comes around his tongue, walls fluttering as she cries her release.

She groans softly and Jughead feels her thighs tense as she tries to lever herself up. He helps her, shuffling her back over his chest, to sit in his lap. Betty folds herself onto his chest and purrs in contentment. 

“Thank you Betts,” he whispers into her hair. 

The look she gives him is sweet and hot. “Why are you thanking me?”

He licks his lips and watches her shiver in pleasure. “For letting me fulfil a fantasy of mine, my beautiful.”

Betty sighs softly and kisses him, moaning against his mouth as she twists in his arms and pulls him on top of her. 

Jughead carefully slides off her sexy little underwear from her slender legs and Betty arches back in the bed, face flushed and satiated, yet eyes still filled with desire. 

He has to stand to take off his shorts and underwear with any semblance of grace, but the way Betty watches him, splayed out and covered in lace on his bed, makes him believe that he’s beautiful and irresistible, and he’s desperate to feel like that all the time.

He slides over her and wraps her legs around his waist, making a fraught, filthy sound of pleasure as the head of his cock brushes her dripping pussy. 

“Fuck, Betts,” he swears, because profanities are the only thing that can capture how unhinged he is every time he touches her delectable body.

Betty keens and arches her hips, pressing herself on top of his raging erection and he thinks he will never get over how fucking perfect she is. Her eyes are dark wit lust and she’s digging her fingernails into his forearms, lips parted and face flushed as he pushes the tip of his cock into her sweet quim. 

_Fuck, the feeling of sliding into her liquid heat is exquisite._

Betty clutches at his length, her walls clamping down on him with such force that his eyes close with the divine pleasure of it.

“Juggie,” she keens and his nickname, torn from her moistened lips with his cock buried inside of her, flings him to the edge. It's sinful how hard he gets over hearing her cry out his childhood nickname during sex, but fuck it, he’s so into her in all the ways, he’s beyond caring. 

His fingers brush and tease her nipples under their lace cage and Jughead is insanely hard when Betty starts squirming underneath him, her movements sliding her over his obscenely hard cock and drawing him further into her scorching heat. 

“I love the way you make me feel,” she whispers, fingernails digging into his wrists like the night of the Whyte Wyrm and he’s so gone for her, feathering his hands across her perfect breasts.

He can’t speak, can’t form a fucking thought as his world narrows to the feeling of her delicious body wrapped around him, pussy clutching at his cock, arching under him and those gasps sounds she makes that drives him mental.

But it’s the _look_ of adoration in her eyes makes him come so hard he swears he _sees stars_ , emptying himself inside her as she clamps down on his cock, milking his orgasm. 

He kisses his love, breathless and boneless and thinks, _Betty Cooper, you are my forever._

~~~

Later, after Betty and Jughead are lying satisfied and curled around each other for the second time that day, Betty hears her phone ping with a message. 

Jughead is closer to the phone, so she asks him, “Can you pass me my phone? It’s probably JB.”

Jughead smiles slightly and reaches to get her phone. He’s about to hand it to her when she notices him frown, looking at the screen. An odd expression crosses his face and he says calmly, “You’re right, it’s from JB.”

“Thank you!” Betty smiles hugely, taking her phone from his hand. It’s a stupid cat meme that JB has put in the group chat. She giggles and then tosses it aside to stare at her love.

Jughead is still staring at her with a contemplative expression. She wants to kiss the little frown line that has appeared in the centre of his forehead, so she pulls herself on top of him. 

When she brushes her hair back from her face, Jughead’s expression is dark and liquid. “You’re stunning, Betty,” he whispers and she leans down to kiss his lips, breathing in his scent. 

“You’re beautiful Juggie,” she gasps into his lips. She threads her fingers through his hair and holds him close, tasting herself on his lips. 

She can’t get over how delicious and addictive it is to be with him; she’s never felt so simultaneously satisfied yet needy. She wishes she could just lock herself in a room with Jughead for the next year or so to give them enough consecutive time during which to worship each other uninterrupted. 

Jughead kisses her with an intensity that melts her insides and she knows that she can’t live without this, without him now that she knows how perfect they are together.

She’s certainly dreading leaving their little sex den, especially with him going to back to work in a week or so. 

Jughead’s phone rings, piercing the moment. 

“Ignore it,” he hisses against her lips, peppering soft, insistent kisses against her mouth. 

“Just turn it off,” she insists, voice breathy and pained.

Jughead’s eyes don’t leave hers as he reaches over to the bedside table. “This is such poor etiquette Betty,” he informs her.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, you brought it into the bedroom! Plus I checked my phone before.”

He grins at her, boops her nose and then looks at the screen and groans slightly, “Ah good news and bad news.”

She hums and kisses his jaw, enjoying the way his fingers tighten in her hair as she runs her mouth along his rough, stubbled chin. “Tell me,” she breathes.

“Good news is that they picked up the home economics teacher,” Jughead gasps as she licks his collarbone. 

Betty stills against him, “Bad news is you have to go?”

“’Fraid so,” Jughead chokes against her. “I need to be there. I want to make sure you’re safe, Betts.”

She can’t help that she both loves how much he cares about her, but wishes he would stay with her. 

“Can I come to the station?” she asks, looking into his eyes. 

“Ah,” Jughead hesitates and she wonders what he’s concerned about. 

“I mean,” Betty says innocently, tossing her hair behind her. Jughead’s eyes go straight to her chest and his hands trail up her sides to cup her breasts with a soft groan. “I could just find my own way there.”

Jughead’s fingers tighten around her breasts and he releases a pained sound. “You really know how to get what you want from me. How are you such an expert?”

“I teach classes if you’re interested in some summer school?” she jokes and he runs his hands up over her shoulders to pull her back down on to his chest.

She can feel his laughter vibrate through his torso and giggles with him. 

“Okay, fine, you can come with me,” Jughead says, still chuckling. “But I am going to humbly request that you put on some clothes before we leave.”

“How conservative of you, Special Agent Jones.”

~~~

Many familiar faces greet Betty and Jughead when they enter the Sheriff’s department. 

“Young FP!” One of the older, moustached men calls to Jughead. Betty snickers at Jughead’s wide-eyed stare. 

“Ed, good to see you!” Jughead says smoothly, shaking his hand. 

Ed has gotten a lot older since Betty saw him last, but he seems to remember her. “Betty Cooper,” he says with a grandfatherly smile. “Look at you! Such a young lady!”

She smiles winningly and Ed looks charmed. 

“I’m just about to duck into interrogation,” Jughead says briskly, “Can Betty wait out here?”

“Hey!” she exclaims, annoyed. “Don’t leave me out.”

Jughead turns to her and puts both of his hands on her shoulders. His voice is quiet and pleading when he says, “Betts, please? I’m really worried about you and I need to concentrate on this.”

“You can’t concentrate when I’m in the adjacent room?” Betty asks with a pout. 

Jughead chuckles darkly, “Betts, I find it hard to concentrate knowing you exist, having you watch me in this instance will not allow me to make sure you’re safe. Please let me make sure that you’re safe.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles at his adorable words. “Oh fine,” she sighs and caresses his cheek softly. “I can’t argue when you’re doing this all for me.”

His eyes flutter closed and he looks relived. “I’ll be back soon and then I’m going to cook you dinner, okay?”

She feels a warm glow suffuse inside her at the look of adoration in his eyes. 

“Sounds perfect.” _My love._

~~~

Betty takes a seat in the break room and mucks around on her phone, scrolling through Instagram, chatting to JB and Veronica when her mother FaceTimes her. 

_Intriguing timing, mother._

“Mom,” Betty smiles as Alice comes into view, “So good to see you. How are you going?”

“Great, darling! We are already having so much fun!” Alice says and then gives her an appraising look, “You look good, honey. What have you been up to?”

_Yikes mom. Sex and a lot of it?_

Betty starts, alarmed as her mother pays too much attention to her and then Alice says, “Why are you in the break room of the Sheriff’s department, what’s going on?”

Betty hears something off camera and suddenly Gladys is in the frame, “Betty, darling! How are you?”

“Doesn’t Betty look great?” Alice asks Gladys and Betty groans loudly. 

Gladys puts her hand on her heart and sits down next to Alice. “Darling second daughter, you’re positively glowing! How is Jughead? Are you two spending a lot of time together?”

Betty watches herself turn red and choke on camera. Gladys and Alice share a delighted look. 

“What wrong, honey?” Alice says to Betty, casually, “It’s not like she won’t hear about everything the moment we stop chatting.”

Betty shrugs and rolls her eyes, knowing they’re right. 

“So, how is Jughead going?” Gladys asks, softly. “Are you both well? And why are you at the Sheriff’s department? I would recognise that hideous wall paper anywhere.”

Then Betty can hear FP’s voice, off camera, “What’s this about Jughead and Betty being in the Sheriff’s department?”

She screams internally as both Hal and FP all appear in the frame. Alice rests her phone on the coffee table as they all make a panel on the couch in front of her. 

“Hi everyone!” Betty says with false graciousness, “How is the holiday so far?”

“Not as interesting as this conversation, if I am being completely honest Betty,” FP says with a smirk. He looks so annoyingly like Jughead that she can’t be mad at him. 

“Hmm,” she says noncommittally. 

“So, what’s happening?” Alice asks getting her wine glass like this is some particularly interesting reality TV show. “Mmm good vintage.”

Betty feels kind of embarrassed telling her actual family and her second family so she says, “Well, Jughead and I have been investigating something together.”

“Investigating,” FP says, putting the words in air quotes and waggling his eyebrows. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

Betty splutters, “Oh my gosh! No, I really mean it!”

“So, you’re not staying in our house?” Gladys asks and presumably at Betty’s horrified face concedes, “JB told us.”

“That snitch!” Betty exclaims furiously. 

“Are you living at our house, Betty?” FP asks, curiously and Alice and Hal stare at her like they want to know the answer too.

“Oh my god,” Betty screeches trying to avoid their eyes, “This is literally the most embarrassing pantheon I’ve ever been judged by!”

“Honey!” Her mother exclaims, “Just tell us really quickly. It will be like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

“Ahh! Fine!” Betty snarls, “But hold all the parental judgment until afterwards and I want your collective words that you will not contact Jughead about this at all.”

Alice shoots Gladys a look and Betty spits insistently, “I mean it mom!”

They all sigh heavily, and FP laments, “Honestly, what’s the point if we can’t meddle?”

Hal nods at him in commiseration and says, “Like that Christmas were we got it into Tessa’s head to speak to JB alone. Of course, we didn’t know what a terrible person she was then, but we just wanted to get her out of the picture.”

“What?” Betty screams at her dad. 

“Yeah,” FP shrugs, “Plus JB already hated her so we just needed to guilt Jughead a bit.”

“You are all the worst,” Betty insists, but they all just grin at her, “That Christmas was awful!” 

“Yes,” Gladys agrees, “But it was poignant. It made JB break up with Toni, it made Jughead clean up his act and brought everyone closer together. Mostly because of you Elizabeth.”

Betty is torn between feeling horrified at their meddling and flattered that they all love the idea of her and Jughead together so much. At this point, the flattery wins out.

“Yes, I’m living at the Jones’s house,” Betty snarls through gritted teeth. 

Alice looks pleased, “Did you start this up after the wedding? Was that your first kiss?”

“This is so embarrassing!” Betty exclaims as all the parents stare at her with curiosity. “No, we kissed before that.”

“Ahh yes, the night you stayed over,” FP concedes and Betty feels her face flame with embarrassment. “Is that why he decided to stay in Riverdale?” 

Betty shakes her head; “No. He stayed back to help me out with some work stuff.”

“Who had that in the poll as the excuse?” Hal says, looking at something off camera.

“You’re betting on Jughead’s and my relationship?” Betty exclaims, exasperated. 

FP grins, “We are retired, Betty.” As if that explained everything. “Once we’ve stopped all the planned holiday activities, we need some good games and gossip. Plus now that JB is finally with Veronica, that poll has closed. We needed to open up some new gambling lines.” 

“Oh Alice,” Hal calls, “You had “Jughead uses excuse to help Betty with her work”, there were 17:1 odds on that, so very good pull.”

Alice punches her fist into the air, “That money is going to an extravagant lunch at the winery on the weekend!”

Gladys looks at Betty with tears glistening in her eyes. “Oh Betty, you have no idea how happy I am to know that you’re finally with Jughead.”

Betty shakes her head vehemently, “No, we are not yet! We are just sleep-,”

“Sleeping together?” Alice prompts, “Is that what you wanted to say?”

“Mom!” Betty groans, burying her face in her hands.

“Oh,” FP looks at Hal, “I guess bets are still on for love confession timings then.”

Hal nods and flips through a notebook, presumably to set up some new stakes. 

Betty freezes and feels a warm glow suffuse through her. “What?”

Gladys nods, “We think Jughead has been in love with you for a really long time, honey.”

“Oh!” Betty exclaims. She turns to her parents and second parents and says bluntly, a huge smile blossoming on her face, “I’m in love with Jughead, did you know?”

Her mother gives her a radiant smile, “Only for like seven years.”

Betty can’t stop smiling as everything just falls into place. “I have to tell him. He’s making me dinner tonight, so maybe after that?”

“So romantic,” Alice says, eyes shining.

“You go girl!” FP cheers. 

“Love all of you insane people!” Betty blows them kisses and hangs up. 

Despite the bizarre (and humiliating) conversation, she feels so excited having their approval and love already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who want to look it up, the lingerie Betty wears is “Molly Bustier & Bottom Set” by Honey Birdette, but in a warm pink.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Also you all know what's going to happen next chapter... :)  
> Jughead's going to cook Betty dinner... and...


	15. Declarations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I have three pieces of dialogue that are inspired by comments from reviewers: **redcirce** , **Cherlynne** and **raymondebidochonlifechoices**. Thanks so much, my loves! See end notes for the precise ones :P

“Mr Honey is it?” Jughead asks softly, from across the interrogation table at the Riverdale Sheriff’s department. It has been years since he has stepped foot in this building, but he could never forget the smell of cheap coffee and hot linoleum that permeates this room. 

His mind is still impossibly ensnared by _the woman_ who is in the room next to him. The haze of lust and love that he feels in her presence is sharply sliced through with the reminder that _her car blew up_ and it’s his entire job to keep her safe. 

He had let his guard down too much over the past few days, getting wrapped up in the haze of sex and _her_ , enjoying the sheer domestic bliss of living with Betty and pretending he was her significant other. 

And then there was that thing on her phone… _Mrs Jughead Jones._

Despite where he stood right now and the imperative of deciphering Mr Honey’s plans, Jughead wanted nothing more than to shut himself in the interrogation room alone and think about the gorgeous and myriad possibilities of what her nickname could mean. 

Right now, to stop thinking about her and start helping her, Jughead must bury himself in his work. He needs to create sufficient distance in his mind in order to create a partition between what he must do for her and his overwhelming desire to quit this interrogation and throw himself at her feet. 

“Yes, Holden Honey.” Says the man across from him. Honey is young, a few years younger than Jughead and reasonably good looking. He is slick; his hair is well-coiffed and he has an air of superiority about him that Jughead doesn’t quite understand. His clothes seem too expensive for a teacher at Riverdale High. Other money sources perhaps? 

“And you know why you’re here?” Jughead prompts, making a point to flip through the folders in front of him. 

Honey shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Well, we just wanted to talk to you about an incident that happened at the end of the school year, where half the cheerleading team fainted.”

Honey folds his arms and nods. Jughead notices his lip twitch. 

“Oh yes,” Honey says smoothly, “I remember hearing about that. I heard it was from recreational drug use.”

“You heard right,” Jughead says in a friendly manner. He takes out a photo from his folder and hands it to Honey. “Look familiar? This was found in your home economics room labelled under “decorative sugar”. Do you know what that is?”

“Sugar?” Honey says, with both eyebrows raised. Jughead watches his face carefully for any cracks. 

“Recreational drugs,” Jughead says simply, eyes not leaving Honey’s. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Honey leans back in his chair and licks his lips. Jughead thinks he looks nervous. “Why would I know that?”

“Because we found the same “sugar” at your house with your fingerprints all over the containers, so we know we have you for possession at least.”

“What?” Honey spits, “I’m being framed!”

Jughead smirks, “By whom, pray tell?”

“That gang guy, M-something. Malachite?” Honey’s response surprises Jughead. 

“Malachi?” Jughead asks smoothly. 

“Yes,” Honey says, pulling back his lips slightly. 

“Why him?” Jughead asks, curiously, “For what reason would a gang leader want to frame a home economics teacher?”

“Because I ran into his car and didn’t leave my insurance details.” Honey looks at him and shrugs before saying, “What? It was super dented, I wasn’t going to pay for the whole thing to be fixed!”

“And someone saw you?” Jughead prompts.

“Yes, and tracked me down to Riverdale High,” Honey says. 

“Okay so when did this incident take place?” Jughead asks.

“The hit and run?” Honey clarifies and Jughead nods. “A few weeks ago.”

“And what else have they done to make you pay for your transgression?” Jughead asks, eyes narrowed. 

Honey shrugs, “Nothing else. I suppose they have replaced a few of my classroom supplies with drugs, which is super alarming actually.”

Jughead nods, “Yeah it is. How did they get them into the school?”

Honey shrugs, “How would I know?”

“But you turned off the CCTV cameras for them, right?” Jughead asks, smirking, “The Sheriff supplied us with footage of you walking up to the cabinet and then it goes black. Do you remember what day this was?”

Honey shakes his head. 

Jughead smiles slowly, “Let me remind you… it was the day before the cheerleaders had their little attack. The day of your spirit box bake session.”

Honey goes white. “That’s circumstantial.”

Jughead barks out a laugh. “Sure, but I think a jury would consider it highly suspect.”

He watches Honey for a moment and tries a different tack, “How old are you Holden?” 

“Twenty three,” Honey replies. “Why?”

“No real reason, you just look really young to be a fully-fledged teacher.” Jughead comments offhandedly. “I bet many of the girls at Riverdale High like you.”

Honey shrugs, “I suppose, as much as they like any teacher.”

Jughead laughs, “Yeah but you like them back, don’t you?”

Honey’s face twitches. 

“Thought so. Interestingly, one of the deputies actually brought it Malachi earlier once he knew we were working with jingle jangle,” Jughead leans back in his chair nonchalantly. “You know what? Malachi rolled on you, my friend. Apparently it has something to do with you being in a relationship with his little cousin, who is sixteen? Ring any bells?”

Honey says nothing, but his face gives it away. 

“Right in one. So Malachi was telling the truth.” Jughead says venomously, “Apparently you got her pregnant and forced her to get an abortion? And Malachi extorted your career for jingle jangle distribution rights at Riverdale High?”

Honey gulps nervously, “I want a lawyer.”

Jughead nods, “You’re going to need one. Let me tell you what else we have on you so you can give your lawyer the full run down, hey?”

Honey sets his jaw. 

“So, we have the CCTV camera, the tox screens from the cheerleading team, half of whom ingested jingle jangle – why not the other half, by the way?”

Honey says nothing.

“My hypothesis here is that half of them refused to eat the sugary goods for some reason or another, such as diets or whatnot. Apparently one of the girls was prone to diabetes too…” Jughead waves his hand and says, “Anyway, we will get to the bottom of that, so don’t you worry. Importantly, we found jingle jangle in your home and in your place of work. Don’t worry, we will get your fingerprints to ensure that we can nail you for this…”

Honey keeps his arms folded. 

“Okay last question,” Jughead sighs and pulls out another picture. It’s Betty’s headshot. He slides it across the table to Honey. “Does she look familiar?”

Jughead hears Honey make a small noise in the back of his throat. “So you do know her?”

Honey shakes his head. 

Jughead takes the picture back, not wanting the creep to stare at it for any longer. 

Jughead stands and puts his files back together before he says to Tim, “Give the man a phone call. Feel free to send him the recording of this session. We did read him his rights, so good luck to whoever the represents the bastard.”

He turns to Honey and states; “We didn’t find explosives on your property though. But we will, I am sure.”

Honey looks at him wide-eyed as Jughead leaves. 

Bryan catches him on the way out, “We’ll do another sweep later.”

“I’m so impressed you got a warrant issued so quickly,” Jughead says to him, emotions running high. He’s furious at Honey, terrified for Betty, disbelieving in the whole scenario and desperate to talk to Betty about everything. 

Bryan shrugs, “Called in a few favours. I figured you’d owe me on account of me saving your future wife.”

Jughead makes a choked sound, thinking of Betty and her “Mrs Jughead Jones” nickname. 

Bryan just raises both of his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jughead says quickly and moves passed him. “I just have a lot on my mind at the moment.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you do,” Bryan jokes from behind. 

Betty greets him the moment he steps out of interrogation. She looks flushed, like she’s too warm, but he can’t miss the way her whole being lights up upon seeing him. 

“Juggie,” she sighs and if it were anyone else calling him that in public he would feel hideously embarrassed, but right now his heart is soaring and he’s starry-eyed over his future wife. He pulls her possessively against him and kisses her full on the lips in front of all his dad’s old colleagues. He has no doubt that FP will call him about this in mere moments, but he doesn’t fucking care. He loves Betty Cooper with everything he is, and there is nothing standing in the way of his being with her. 

She moans against him and threads her fingers through his hair, which makes his scalp tingle and he has to physically prevent himself from picking her up and wrapping her legs around his mid-section. _That_ would cause quite the scandal in the ol’ Riverdale Sheriff’s Department. 

“Let’s go home Betts?” Jughead suggests, brushing his lips near her ear. She shivers against him and wraps her arms around his neck, nodding in agreement.

She turns slightly in his arms and waves goodbye to Ed. Jughead inclines his head, because there’s no way he’s ever letting go of Betty again. 

The sun is beating down on the car when they exit the cool, dark brick building. 

“You said you wanted to make me dinner, Jug?” Betty says, her liquid green eyes on his. He wants to devour her all over again. 

He hums in pleasure and nods. “Yes Betts, I am going to go to the shops to get the ingredients and then spend the rest of the afternoon making you something delicious.”

“Can I help?” she asks, eyes shining. 

He kisses her, holding her tightly in his arms, thinking; _Betty Cooper, you are sweet perfection._

He smirks at her upturned face and wide, soft expression. “I’d love to do this _for_ you, if that’s okay? How about… you can watch me and drink wine?”

Betty purrs contentedly, “Oh, yes, that would be wonderful. At least I know you’re not going to JB me.”

Jughead raises one eyebrow. “JB you? What’s that?”

Betty snorts and rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. Jughead knows how crazy she is about his insane sister. “You know how she always invites you over on the pretence of cooking and then just acts all helpless until you take over?”

Jughead barks out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I think I’m the one who enabled that particular bad habit of hers. She can play me like no one else…”

Then he pauses and concedes, feeling himself blush, “Well, second to you, of course, Betts.”

Betty grins happily and he reluctantly lets her go so they don’t have sex in the parking lot against a scorching hot car in broad daylight. She flounces to the other side of the car and hops in. 

They wince customarily as they touch the burning metal of the seat belts and the black material that somehow is the perfect conductor for whatever temperature it happens to be no matter the time of year. Jughead turns on the air-conditioning as fast as humanely possible. 

He hears his phone chime and looks to Betty. “Betts, can you please read my messages to me? Also, did you want to come with me to the shops or do you want me to take you home?”

She taps her chin thoughtfully. “I want to come with you, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Jughead says, pleased. Now she can see how competent he is in all domestic things. 

_Come on, Betty, see me as perfect husband material._

He hands Betty his phone, unlocking it. Betty takes it from him and the casual brush of finger still makes him crazy with lust. He almost wishes he had just suggested take-out instead of cooking her an elaborate meal. 

Betty reads the messages and makes a weird noise in her throat. 

“Huh?” he prompts, trying to remember if he has anything incriminating on his phone. Well, as long as she doesn’t find the folder of Instagram photos of hers that he’s saved away, then he will be fine. 

Even then, he thinks Betty would probably find it hot or something. 

Now, he half wishes she would find it.

“Oh nothing,” she breathes though laughter, “Just messages from your parents.”

“Figures,” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. “Ed probably told dad immediately that we were there. What do they say?”

Betty is grinning and shaking her head when she reads out, “From your mom: Hi darling, how are you going? We miss you. Hope you’re having a good time with Betty.”

“Oh geez, no fucking pretence there,” he laments, keep his eyes firmly on the road so he can’t lose his mind watching her laugh. “Okay and dad?”

He thinks he hears Betty snort softly. “Your dad has written: Son, what are you up to? I hear you’re hanging out at my old place of work with Betty. What’s going on? Is something up? Ed says you kissed her. Good job, son, I knew you had it in you! Make that girl a nice dinner.”

“Ah!” Jughead yells, embarrassed, and Betty cracks up, giggling uncontrollably. 

“That’s the worst!” Jughead cries, face flushed with mortification. 

Betty is gasping when she says through her giggles, “I’m not done.”

He wonders what could possibly be worse when Betty cackles, “He’s added emojis!”

“Oh good lord,” Jughead moans piteously. “Which ones?”

Betty has tears streaming down her face when she splutters, “Wine, cheese and eggplant? What the hell FP?”

“Ahh!” Jughead screeches, humiliated beyond recognition. He tries to hastily explain to Betty, who is practically rolling around in the car seat, laughing at him. “He knows that my best dish involves eggplant, that’s all! I swear he has no idea what he’s typing!”

But Betty is gasping, doubled over with laughter and despite his embarrassment it’s the best sound in the world.

~~~

“Jug,” Betty says in wonder as they enter the house a while later, carrying bags filled with groceries. “You’re so efficient at shopping. I had no idea that you could buy specific flour like that!”

He laughs and starts to unpack the food, feeling super chuffed by her comments. “Well Betts,” he explains, “I want to make you fresh pasta.”

“Oh wow,” she murmurs, eyes lighting up, “I’ve never had fresh pasta made for me before.”

“I’ve only ever made it for mom, dad and JB,” Jughead confesses, finding the bottle of wine, “It’s only for special people.”

Betty’s smile completely illuminates him.

“I’m special?” she says, wrinkling her nose slightly as if she doesn’t quite believe his words. 

He nods, sure that he’s smiling like a goof but she’s so perfect it’s hard to act normal. “The most special,” he assures her. “Perfect, in fact.”

Betty leans over the bench and he hands her a glass of wine. 

“You know, Jug,” she says calmly after taking a sip, “You’ve really surprised me over the last week or so.”

Jughead tips the flour, eggs, oil and salt into the food processors and apologises briefly before turning it on. After ten seconds he turns it off and tips the crumbly mixture on to a chopping board and starts to knead. 

“Sorry for interrupting you, Betts,” he says softly, “Tell me, how have I surprised you?”

He wonders if its his sudden proximity, the wine or his low tone that makes Betty flush, but she looks decidedly flustered when she says, “Well, for starters, you were so sweet with me on the night of the bachelor party when I tried to jump you.”

“Sweet, huh?” he says with a grin. If only she knew the particular train of thought he had that night. 

“Yeah,” Betty says, leaning along the table in a way that revealed her smooth neckline and cleavage. “I mean I wanted to climb you so badly.”

He laughs because he is so startled by her honesty. 

She gives him a look, “I mean, come on Jug, you had to have known? Right?”

“I did,” he laughs, wanting to rub his hands over his face in awkwardness, but they are still covered in flour as he kneads the dough. “Or rather, I do now. I thought I was making it up because I wanted you so badly.”

“Oh?” she says, intrigued, taking another sip of wine. 

“Betts,” Jughead says frankly, eyes locking on to her warm green ones. “I mentioned the other day that you looked edible in that stupid outfit.”

She giggles and flushes. “Stupid?”

“Stupid because it covered too much and too little at the same time,” Jughead says, covering the dough with plastic wrap and setting it aside. “Then you were in my bed in my t-shirt and I think I’ve never been hard for such a long time in my life, I thought I was going to have to go to the ER.”

Betty giggles delightedly. “Yet you still refused to touch me.”

“Um, yep?” Jughead says, titling his head to one side and smirking, “I had to be totally sure.”

“You have the will power of a saint, Jughead Jones,” Betty croons, and the sound travels straight to his loins. 

He grins at her. “I have been trained to withstand torture, Betty. That was like all my training… but infinitely worse. Trust me, it was the – ah – hardest night of my life, but I managed.”

Her eyes are dark when she appraises him. She announces with a flourish of her wine glass, “I would have had sex with you if the situation were reversed.”

Jughead splutters and pours himself a glass. “Fuck, Betts…”

“How would you have handled it?” she asks curiously, “If I had have come on to you stronger?”

“Stronger?” he gasps, wondering what that was supposed to look like. What else could she have done? Stripped and rubbed herself all over him naked?

 _Straight-up died,_ he concedes, _I would have had a heart-attack or something, surely? My blood pressure could not have handled more of her._

Betty grins wickedly, “Yeah, like, what if I had have just taken off all my clothes in bed next to you?”

Jughead takes a fortifying sip of wine. “I probably would have just had the best-slash-most painful night of my life…”

Her eyes go impossibly soft. “Oh Juggie, you’re so adorable.”

“What?” he says quietly, “I just wanted to make sure you were fine. I would have still looked after you and not touched you more. Despite nearly killing myself in the process.”

Her cheeks are flushed and this time he knows it’s from his words. 

“You’re too important to me,” he says, watching her face carefully. 

She looks dazzled by his words and the thrill that goes through him sends a fizzy feeling all over his skin. Since the interrogation, Jughead has been trying hard not to think too hard about the implications of her nickname, but holy crap when he’d seen her name as “Mrs Jughead Jones” something in him had just _melted._

Now, it’s all he can think about: _Has Betty Cooper loved me for just as long as I have loved her? What if she has also been dreaming about our wedding day and ever after?_

That particular thought was positively mind-altering and increasingly challenging to ignore. 

Jughead walks around the bench and puts his wine glass down. “Betts,” he says, standing in front of her, gaze locked onto her gorgeous green eyes. “I’ve been remiss to not say this beforehand…”

Her breath catches on his name, “Jug…”

He gathers all his courage.

“I love you,” he says simply, “I love you so much.”

Betty’s eyes widen and her lips part in surprise. “Oh wow…”

Jughead feels frozen momentarily before she reaches out and takes his hands in hers, thumbs tracing the backs of his hands and running over his knuckles. 

“Jug, I love you too,” his beautiful Betty says.

A deep sense of victory floods his body and he stares dumbly at the gorgeous woman in front of him, his precious Betty; the love of his life and says, heart flipping wildly in his chest, “You do?” 

She nods at him, her eyes filled with joy, “So, so much Jug. More than you know.”

He swallows, hard, feeling tears spring to his eyes and says, “Oh my god.”

“Are you okay with that?” She smiles at him sheepishly. 

He nods at her, heart full, “Yes, Betty, you’re my everything.”

She gasps softly and in one breathless moment he sweeps her off the chair and captures her lips in a tender kiss. 

Her eyes are too bright and he knows how she feels, _fucking overwhelmed_ by the roiling emotions of love, acceptance and gratitude. 

That his long time pining after gorgeous, sassy, intelligent, sweet Betty Cooper could amount to more than just that is one thing, but to have it ultimately culminate in _love_ is another. 

It’s heady, intoxicating and in a word: divine.

He kisses her with everything he is, because that’s all he can ever offer her, and she accepts him, lips soft and pliant and he’s _finally hers_ in the way it has always mattered to him the most. 

“I never expected you to admit it first!” She gasps happily, pulling back slightly, as if it has just settled into her consciousness, her face alight with wonder. “I thought I was going to have to coax you into it…”

He laughs, unable to speak because he’s so overwhelmed with this feeling of rightness, delicious shivers flitting over his body making him feel impossibly loved. 

“I saw your nickname in the group chat with JB,” he whispers and she gasps again, flushing with embarrassment. “I couldn’t live with myself without trying to make that a reality.”

“Oh you are such a scoundrel, Jughead Jones,” she giggles and he stops her from insulting him by kissing her into breathlessness. 

She mewls against his mouth and her fingers trace along his chest, making him feel hot all over. 

“I was going to tell you after dinner,” Jughead admits, panting, forehead pressed against hers. “I even have JB dropping past to bring some flowers for you…”

Betty squeaks in surprise and he loves how he’s actually made her eyes _glisten._

“Oh my god, Jug, you’re so romantic!” she gasps, eyes shining as she stares at him like he’s the most important being in the world universe. 

“Betts,” he whispers, their breath intertwining and curling over his lips. Her green eyes are soft and molten. “You’re honestly the most prefect girl in existence, how could I not at least try for you?”

She inhales sharply and claps her hand to her eyes, covering them. “Jug, you’re going to make me cry,” she whispers in a strangled voice. 

He gently pries her hand from her eyes and sees the tears sparkling in her eyes. She’s so beautiful and she’s _his._

_How am I so lucky as to have all my wishes come true?_

“I’ve loved you for a really long time, Betts,” he confesses and watches as she licks her lips and the tears from her eyes spill down her cheeks. “Years.”

“Oh,” she chokes and he presses his lips to hers, feeling her soft mouth beneath his, tasting the saltiness of her tears and hearing her gorgeous little gasps of pleasure and happiness. 

“Juggie,” she breathes, voice raw with emotion as she peppers tiny kisses all over his face. “I’ve loved you for years too… oh my god I thought that this would never happen and that I was just destined to pine for you forever…”

“Betts, fuck,” he hisses, shaking his head and he lifts her up out of the chair to wrap her legs around his midsection. He can feel the heat of her surround him and it’s sweet and hot as he kisses her softly, tenderly. “I thought the same. Damn, I’m such an idiot…”

“Mmm,” she hums against his lips, sending little vibrations through him, “Jug, I want to feel you inside me, I want to feel whole.”

He hears his responding noise of abject desperation and longing and then Betty’s fingers are working to pry off his shirt. He struggles to hold her as she squirms in his arms, tearing at the cloth covering him. 

She’s already breathless as she gets her hands on his chest, gently raking her nails down his skin, “I think I’ve loved you since I was fifteen… you know that summer you came home and you were really pissed off… it was hot and I decided I liked you…”

“…I love your intensity,” she murmurs against his lips and Jughead stabilises himself on the back of the couch so he can get her dress off. “Tear it off.”

He tugs viciously at the fabric and it gives way under his fingers, rewarding him with an expanse of Betty’s silken skin and Jughead presses his face into the juncture of her neck to breathe her in. 

Betty tugs off her bra and arches her back so her nipple brushes along the stubble of his chin. She moans in pleasure and holds her breast up to him as if presenting him a gift. 

“You’re confident, demanding and sassy as all hell,” Jughead gasps as Betty rolls her hips against him, core brushing his erection. “I love it so much, I love you so much.”

Betty pushes her underwear to the side and hisses, “Jughead, please, I’m so ready.”

He sucks on her nipple and Betty groans in both frustration and pleasure. Jughead watches, hard with lust, as she traces a circle around her clit with her fingertips. He bites her nipple lightly and is immensely pleased when Betty thrusts her fingers inside her quim and gasps.

He slides her back off his lap slightly, so he can undo his jeans and he hums in pleasure listening to how wet his future wife is, he’s desperate to replace her fingers with his length. 

“Good, please, inside,” Betty begs him wildly as he pulls his rigid cock out of his jeans. 

They’re mostly standing as Jughead thrusts into her liquid heat, and Betty keens loudly as he hears himself release a guttural sound.

“I feel perfect in your arms,” Betty purrs at him and her eyes are glazed when she meets his gaze. 

He feels hot all over and incredibly powerful at her words. He drives into her slowly, feeling her walls ripple around him and clutch at him. 

Jughead is conscious that he is still processing the fact that she _loves_ him and has _for years_ and the whole situation feels so much like a fantasy or dream that he has held on to for so long… but it’s real now… it’s happening…

He has no words for how perfect he feels, except to tell the love of his life, “You make me feel like I’m the only person in the world.”

Jughead hears his Betty choke and watches the tears well in her eyes as she keens. He holds her in his arms tenderly kissing her soft, pouty lips as he slowly thrusts into her, brushing his fingers across her face, wiping away her tears. 

“Jug,” she breaths, voice cracking, “You’re everything to me.”

He feels his throat constrict and his heart is pounding in his chest over how exquisite she is. “You’re my most perfect fantasy and my darkest desire.”

“Oh!” Betty cries, and Jughead feels her quim clutch at him as he thrusts into her. She seems to be riding an impossible edge of arousal, fraught with emotion as she rolls her hips to match his pace. 

He can feel how high she’s getting and he tells himself to hold on for her, because he wants to give her everything, always.

Her green eyes are intense on his as she digs her nails into his forearms. He can see the tears tracking down her cheeks, and she’s whispering to him, “I love you Jug, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”

He can hear himself chanting, voice choked as she tilts her hips up and slides herself over his rigid length, “Betty, you’re everything… you have to know that…”

His fingers brush every inch of skin on her perfect body, as he worships her while staring into her gorgeous, green eyes. 

When Betty comes, Jughead can feel her grasp at him as she pulls him over the edge with her and he soars. It feels too perfect, like he’s ascended and he sees Betty’s soft, glazed look and feels so fucking _overwhelmed_ by her.

He’s aware that tears are tracking down his cheeks and he holds her tight against him, cradling his love, (finally) his Betty, and kisses her breathlessly. 

“Why are you crying?” she sobs, hands clutching at his chest.

“I’m fucking happy Betts,” he confesses, voice raw, “I literally never thought this would happen and I am overwhelmed with joy.”

Her eyes sparkle and she smiles hugely around her tears, wailing, “Me too Jug, oh my gosh… I love you so much.”

“Betts, I love you so much too.”

He lowers them both to the ground and makes love to her again.

Fresh pasta be damned.

~~~

Betty feels so overwhelmed throughout dinner that she goes back and forth between laughing, sighing and crying ( _oh my god, am I turning into Alice?_ ).

_Perfect, beautiful, stoic, gorgeous Jughead Jones loves me!?_

They eat dinner at nine, because by the time she and Jughead stopped trying to drown in each other, she refused to sit across the bench from him, so he made the entire dinner with her wrapped around his midsection like a sexy (she likes to think) koala.

He seemed to love it though, kissing her insistently while preparing the fillings for the – what was it? - _mezze lune_ he made. His fingers trailed maddeningly over her skin, and at one point, in a culinary intermission, he made love to her on the kitchen bench.

They sit wrapped around each other on the couch (“We’re too far apart at the dining table Jug,” she pointed out and he nodded thoughtfully.) with their bowls of homemade pasta filled with roasted eggplant, lemon and ricotta filling slathered in burnt butter and sage sauce. 

“Mmm,” Betty hums in pleasure, “I could get used to this.”

Jughead gives her the most perfect, crooked smile. “I want you to.”

_Oh my god, swoon._

Betty has to admit that Jughead being romantic is still so irresistible to her. 

He has loved her for _years_? And he saw her stupid nickname in the group chat and decided he wanted to _make that a reality_?

Betty’s heart and emotions are all over the place as she screams internally. 

One step at a time. 

The doorbell rings and Betty reluctantly levers off Jughead so he can answer the door. 

“Oh my fucking god bro, you finally admitted it!” Betty can hear JB squeal at the door.

Moments later she and Veronica are storming into the house. JB takes one look at her, throws the giant bouquet of roses that she was holding at Jughead and launches herself at Betty, enveloping her into a giant hug. 

Veronica joins them fractions of a second later. 

“You got him to crack, Betty!” JB screams excitedly, stroking her hair, “You are such a boss bitch, I bow down to your tenacity!”

Veronica pats her back murmuring, “I’m so happy for you Betty.”

“Hey!” Jughead interrupts, arms folded with an amused expression on his face as he stares at the three of them. “Don’t I get any credit for this?”

JB scoffs at him loudly and snorts, “I think not, my dumbass brother. What did you do? Brood, pine and push her away like a moody bitch.”

Jughead makes a strangled sound in his throat. 

JB continues with a huge grin. “Betty hunted you down like one of her fucking stories and she deserves every congratulations for getting what she wanted.”

“Me?” Jughead breathes, as if in disbelief. 

“Of course you,” Betty smiles back and Jughead places a hand over his heart and flushes. 

_I love you,_ he mouths, shaking his head slightly, and she wants to hold this moment in her heart forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shout-out to **redcirce** , **Cherlynne** and **raymondebidochonlifechoices** whose comments from previous weeks inspired these lines: 
> 
> ///“You have the will power of a saint, Jughead Jones,” Betty croons, and the sound travels straight to his loins. /// **Cherlynne**
> 
> ///He smirks at her. “I have been trained to withstand torture, Betty. That was like all my training… but infinitely worse. Trust me, it was the hardest – ah – night of my life, but I managed.”/// **redcirce**
> 
> ///“Then you were in my bed in my t-shirt and I think I’ve never been hard for such a long time in my life, I thought I was going to have to go to the ER.”/// **raymondebidochonlifechoices**
> 
> Much love!


	16. Admissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bughead fluff and sexy times.

“What was your first time like, Jug?” Betty asks, staring into his eyes.

“Uhh,” he says, slightly at a loss for words. It's not like he really wanted to have this conversation with her (literally ever). She is the last person in the world to which he wants to reveal all of his deepest most and appalling sexual habits, particularly those of his youth.

“I can tell you what mine was like if you would like to hear it?” Betty asks, a small smile on her face.

He pauses for a moment, thinking. Of course he wants to hear about all of her past lovers, of course he wants to hear about the guy who she lost her virginity to but he didn’t want the situation to become _quid pro quo,_ and he knows now that she can skilfully interrogate him into giving up all his secrets. He would feel especially ashamed if she knew how many women he had slept with pretending that they were her. 

“Okay,” he says quickly, his emotions getting the better of him. “Was it Tom?”

She laughs, “No, it was not Tom.”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this?” he asks, part desperate for her to keep talking and part insane with worry that she will judge him.

Betty smiles up at him from her position on his chest. “Well,” she says, “Given we are kind of in a relationship now, I think it's pretty important that we share our past experiences.”

He can’t help it when his face splits into a grin. “Kind of?” he teases her.

“Very much so?” She adds, with an endearing expression. He laughs and her lips twist into a little smile. “Plus I like the idea of you knowing everything about me and there being no secrets between us. What do you think?”

He can't look away from her beautiful green eyes, and despite his better judgment, he acquiesces, “Yes. I guess that would be a good idea.” He takes a deep breath, “Look, Betty, there might be some things that I tell you that you might not like. Can you please just hold off and judging me until the end?”

She is still smiling as she looks at him. “Jug, of course I won't judge you. You've been away a long time and you're a bit older than me so naturally you've had some experiences that I haven't. I'm not going to be mad about that.”

It isn’t that he is worried about her being mad; he doesn't really expect Betty to be the type to get upset about the past. What he is really worried about is how much of his depravity he will reveal in this conversation. But he is a sucker for her and those beautiful green eyes that are looking at him, begging him to spill his deepest, darkest secrets.

“Shall I first?” she prompts.

He laughs darkly, “I don't think that's a good idea. I think you should let me go first, because my stories are bound to be worse than yours. Also, I can't stand the idea of following up with your romantic, candle-lit sex adventures with my bathroom stalls in the back of clubs.”

Betty laughs against his chest, eyes sparkling. “Sure thing Jug. Tell me all your secrets.”

Jughead takes a deep breath and starts on a tale of misadventure he feels so ashamed about that he is surprised he has been so easily manipulated into revealing it.

“Okay, so the-first-person-that-I-had-sex-with story... Well, her name was Penny and we did it in my college room dorm while Charles was on a date. It was like four in the afternoon and the damn room was so bright.” He laughs slightly, “It was so uncomfortable. I felt like she was watching and judging my every move. I can tell you now that that was not a good experience for either of us. We didn't really speak again after that.”

“Why was it so bad?” Betty asks, sweetly and naively. 

Jughead feels himself blush profusely. “I, um, couldn't really make it work for a while? It was bad because I didn't find her attractive. It sort of got to the point in college when I just decided that I needed to lose it and anything went at that point. We didn't have anything in common, I didn't find her attractive, and I don't even think she found me attractive. It was just a transaction, so to speak.”

Betty looks at him, eyebrows raised. Her expression goes from surprised to a little bit sad, “Juggie, that's awful,” she says, “You deserve so much better.”

He feels mollified at her words and looks into her eyes and whispers, “Well, I do have so much better. The best.”

She giggles and arches against him, her breasts brushing lightly against his chest. She reaches up to kiss him lazily and threads her hands through his hair. He can feel himself stirring again underneath her naked form, interested in where this is going, wanting more.

It’s almost cruel when she stops kissing him and props herself on the pillow next to him. “So then what?” she asks.

“Betty,” he says slowly and firmly, “I am not going to tell you every single person I've slept with in my whole life.”

“Because we don't have the time?” she jokes.

He growls at her, but to show he is not angry, he accompanies his growl with light tickles to her stomach.

She giggles as his hands brush against her sensitive stomach, he can feel her squirming against him, her bare legs brushing his, and from the edge of his vision he watches her breasts jiggle with dark, hungry eyes.

He runs his hand up her body and cups her breast, enjoying the gasp of pleasure torn from her, as his fingers brush across her taut nipple.

“Come on,” she says, a bit breathlessly, trying to swat his hand away playfully. “I want to know how many people you've slept with. I'll tell you mine: five.”

“Five?” he asks incredulously. She nods in earnest. 

“Betty,” he says, slowly, “I don't actually remember how many women I've slept with. I could estimate or something, but I don't actually know. I've never actually written down a list because that would make me feel creepy.”

“Jug, I don't think you're creepy at all,” she says imploringly, and her acceptance alleviates the gnawing feeling in his gut. “Really, I just want to know. I promise I won't judge you. I mean I've done some things in my past that I'm not super impressed with either and I hope that you wouldn't judge me for them.”

“Of course I won't judge you Betty!” Jughead says seriously, “Plus I doubt that there's anything that you've ever done in your life the compares to mine.”

“Don't be too sure about that,” Betty laughs and swats him gently, “But this isn’t a competition!”

Now he's really curious. “Okay, tell me about your first time then?”

Betty smiles mischievously. “My first time. Well.” She pauses momentarily. “Remember when I told you and Dylan that story about me learning to play pool and chasing down that guy from the Kappa Lambdas in order to finish my story about public hazing on campus?”

He nods affirmatively, “I sure do.”

“Well,” Betty says, twisting her fingers together, “The first guy that I ever slept with was actually the one that I was chasing around for that whole year.”

“You mean to tell me,” Jughead enunciates slowly, mind whirring, “That the first guy that you ever slept with was a criminal that you were investigating?” 

“Yes,” she says somewhat sheepishly and then giggles against him. “Why?”

He laughs darkly, “Oh I'm just really glad that you're going to be a journalist and that you're not going to work at the FBI.”

“Why?” Betty asks, eyes intent.

“Because then you would be sleeping with every single criminal – and there are a lot of them,” he jokes and she scrunches her face up adorably at him.

“Would not!” she protests through laughter.

“Anyway,” he says primly, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger in endearment, “We're getting off topic here. What was your first time like?”

“Actually really sweet,” Betty sighs, “Unexpectedly sweet if I'm being completely honest. I mean I didn't really expect the whole candles thing but it was really cute. Sure it was supremely awkward and I felt very clumsy and like a bit of a giraffe learning to walk, but all-in-all I was pretty happy with my first time.”

Jughead smiles at the thought of her being awkward in bed, and then pauses to consider the undercurrents of his emotions at the thought of Betty’s first time.

He feels simultaneously jealous and relieved. He's really glad that Betty’s first experience was wholesome and tender, but he is still a bit jealous of the guy in question.

“That sounds good,” he concedes, praying that he’s saying the right words, “I'm glad that your first experience was so nice. I'm glad it wasn't like mine.”

Betty sighs slightly as if she remembers the experience fondly, and says to him, “I'm actually quite glad he was my first. Because he knew a lot but he really cared about me. So he was quite gentle.”

Jughead can't quash the flicker of possessiveness that runs through him at these words. Sure, he wants to be supportive and he wants to hear about this but it still hurts.

“And Tom?” he finds himself asking.

“Ah Tom,” Betty says with a small smile on her face. “He was lovely. Just a little bit boring. But he wasn't my second. Tom is the last person I slept with before you.”

Jughead mentally counts in his head and knows that there are at least two other people that Betty has slept with. “Who were the other two?” he asks.

Betty smiles dreamily. “There was this one guy, but I don’t remember his name,” she confesses with a small laugh, “I slept with him when I was backpacking in Italy.” She giggles, “It wasn't really my proudest moment because we did kind of have sex in the park.”

“Oh my god!” Jughead exclaims with a laugh, hot all over at the thought of her having sex in public (maybe something they could try while hiking at some point?), “I can't believe you, of all people, had illegal outdoor sex in a foreign country with a random guy.”

Betty giggles and the sound lights up his day. “I can't believe it either sometimes,” she admits ruefully.

“And then the other guy,” she continues, “Was just some guy that I met at a College party. His personality wasn't anything special, but the reason why I wanted to sleep with him was because he looked like someone that I had a crush on but couldn't have at the time.”

She looks at him, her dark green eyes smouldering.

“Oh,” he gasps, feeling heat flood him, “You mean me?”

She grins like the Cheshire cat and says, “Oh yes Jughead, I mean you. To be fair, he didn't look _that_ much like you, but he did have dark hair and blue eyes and he looked kind of sweet. Plus I was drunk and I wanted sex, so I kind of just imagined your face on his.” She blushes hotly at this admission.

Jughead feels incredibly aroused at the thought Betty Cooper imagining him in the place of whomever she slept with in her youth. Despite wishing he were there, he was glad that he was the person she thought about when having sex.

“Have you ever imagined me?” she asks softly, not meeting his eyes. He shivers under the trailing and swirling patterns her fingertips make on his chest. “You know, when you had sex before?”

_Only every single time._

“Yes,” he admits roughly. He can see her lashes fluttering against her pale cheek and wants to kiss her again. He feels like she's given so much to him, in telling him all about her sexual history and he hasn't given her the same in return.

“Betty,” he says, not looking at her, “I'm ashamed to admit that I have spent probably more of my adult life then I would like to recall, chasing after beautiful leggy blondes because they reminded me of you.”

“Oh, wow,” Betty gasps next to him in surprised and her green eyes lock onto his. She looks utterly aroused by his statement, which causes his whole body to alight with a tingling sensation of want. “Really Jughead?”

“Yes,” he confirms, tensing his stomach muscles as her fingers dance across his abdominals. 

Betty traces little patterns over his skin, skating across his hips and he’s already gasping and hard by the time she reaches his cock. He's throbbing as she brushes over it with her gentle, inquisitive fingers.

She grasps him in her hand and the pressure is fucking _perfect_ and croons softly in his ear, “Tell me about it and I will reward you.”

Her hand flexes against his erection and he gasps, finding his gaze track to her insistent green eyes. In his whole life, he never imagined Betty Cooper being this directive with him, but it is incredibly arousing to watch her power play him.

He’s fucking putty in her hands as she strokes his length and watches him with a small smirk on her face. She knows that she’s good at making him crazy and it’s such a turn on. 

He groans loudly as her slender fingers brush the head of his cock, and he says desperately to her, “What do you want to know, beautiful?”

She leans over, taking her hand from his cock and her breast brushes his chest. He groans at the softness of her, desperate for her to put her hand back where it was. 

“First, I want you to hold your hands above your head for me,” she murmurs softly and twists in his arms slightly. 

Not expecting her to say that, he does what she asks without thinking, mind occupied on what he’s going to say to her. It’s not until he feels a cold, metal feeling sliding around his wrist that he jolts underneath her. 

Betty smirks as the handcuffs lock around his wrists and pin him to the metal headboard. “Perfect,” she whispers, eyes dancing with anticipation. 

There’s a hot liquid feeling that courses through him, making him feel insane with arousal as Betty stares at him and licks her lips. 

“You handcuffed me?” he states dumbfounded, cock throbbing at how hot she is.

Betty nods in delight. “Now, I’m going to interrogate you. You should give me a safeword.”

“Holy fuck,” he whispers raggedly. He shouldn't be so turned on by this, he shouldn't be so aroused at the thought of her questioning him in this way, but he fucking loves it. 

“Never work for the FBI,” he jokes lamely, to stop her noticing the degree to which he is _gagging for it._ “Whiskey.”

“Whiskey, good. Now, quiet you,” Betty orders, pressing her fingertip to his lips. He darts his tongue out to lick her fingertip, enjoying her hiss of pleasure at the sensation. “Unless I’m asking you questions…” 

_Sweet fucking hell._

Betty grins and wraps her hand around his length again. Jughead hisses in pleasure, wrists pulling against the cuffs. 

Betty giggles, pleased at his straining. Her lips ghost the shell of his ears when she purrs, “Jughead, my love… I want to know how many people you slept with imagining they were me?”

_Damn, she’s perfect._

Jughead feels impossibly hot in her hand, which strokes him with the right level of firmness and a speed that slowly builds, and she's kissing and licking patterns down his jaw and neck. 

Betty throws one long leg over his legs and traps him further. He can feel how wet she is as she grinds herself against him. He hears a desperate sound of longing spill from him and is dying to get his hands all over her, tugging ineffectually at the clasps that bind. 

Her hand stills on him and she watches him through hooded eyes, demanding his confession. 

“Like, all of them,” he admits, raggedly as if the confession has been ripped from him forcefully.

Betty chuckles and licks his collarbone. He didn't realise how erotic that sensation would be and he thrusts shamelessly into her hand. 

“Good, Juggie, you’re so well-behaved.”

His whole body is fizzing in pleasure at her words. _Love me, love me, love me,_ he chants in his head. 

“Thank you Betts,” he whispers, “You’re amazing at getting whatever you want from me; handcuffs be damned.”

Betty’s smile is radiant and her eyes close briefly in pleasure at the compliment.

She hums and sits up, straddling him and placing his hard, throbbing cock at her centre. Jughead chokes at the searing, dripping heat of her core, hips thrusting upwards involuntarily. 

Betty places her hands on his chest and digs her fingertips in as she slides herself down over his length with terrible yet perfect slowness, because he can feel every ripple and grasp of her walls as they clutch him. 

Another groan is torn from him as he feels her delicious heat envelop his aching cock.

“Ah Betty,” he moans, thrusting upwards, so his cock buries itself into her up to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re perfect. I love you.”

Betty keens and pitches herself forward, holding her torso up with both hands as she presses back repeatedly against his cock, sliding that agonising wet pussy over him, enveloping him. He hisses in pleasure.

“And when you pleasured yourself?” she asks, eyes dark and expression delicious. 

“You, always you,” he gasps, so horrendously hard in her tight little quim, wishing he could touch her and control this insanely slow pace. “I just imagined you’re pretty mouth around my cock, you underneath me, screaming for me or you on top, riding me like a fucking goddess.”

Betty purrs and pushes herself over him, hard, and he chokes at how fucking good it feels to be inside her. “Like this?” she murmurs and he nods, not trusting his ability to form a coherent sentence. 

“I’ve thought about you too many times to count,” River Vixen Cooper says and she rolls her hips over him, making him moan in desperation. “Holding me in your delicious arms, pleasuring me, being a little rough with me…”

He’s insane for how hot this whole scenario is and stops trying to wrench his hands out of the metal cuffs for fear he will literally shred his wrists. 

“I love you so much Jug,” Betty sighs, and moves beautifully on top of him. 

The whole situation with her on top, her taking control, seeing her body in this exact position is frankly too much for him to handle.

He thrusts upwards, gratified when her eyes widen in surprise as he stretches her deep, enjoying her pleasured breathy gasp as he hits her g-spot.

“Right there,” she gasps, throwing her head back with abandon, blonde hair cascading down her back and shoulders. Her breasts bounce over him and he feels so incredibly blessed and turned on by this insanely gorgeous woman, who seemed to find everything he does attractive, and he knows he can’t last much longer.

He thrusts into her again and he can feel pussy clutching at him, desperately. Betty keens loudly rolling her hips back over his cock. 

“Oh my god,” she says with that breathy voice of hers, digging her fingernails into his shoulder. He loses it, thrusting hard into her tight, liquid heat, crying her name as he comes. He feels her walls flutter around him, grasping tightly, and she's arching back in his lap singing his praises.

“You’re the best, Jug,” she cries as her hands dance over his chest, panting unevenly as she comes down. “I love you so much it hurts.”

She curls against his chest and kisses him, their hot breath tangling and eyes molten and satiated as they stare at each other. 

“Mmm, that was just what I needed,” Betty purrs and then rakes her gaze along his body. “Do you want me to release you?”

“That would be great,” Jughead says gruffly, “Before I cut open my wrists from trying to touch you…”

She giggles and releases him; he gingerly massages his sore wrists and the wraps his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him.

“You’re the hottest, wildest, most beautiful, most exquisite woman that’s ever existed,” Jughead declares to his love in between messy kisses across her lips.

Betty’s eyes darken and she hums against him, running her fingers over he grooves of his chest. “You’re perfect and amazing Jughead, and I am so happy to be with you.”

Jughead is pleased to note that she looks completely satiated. “It's such a turn on having you tell me all this time that you've been thinking about me. Because I've been thinking about you too.”

“Yeah?” he hears himself say, somewhat self-consciously, “You probably need to know this… but I actually spent a long time trying to purge thoughts of you from my head by sleeping with anyone who barely resembled you.”

“Oh Jug,” she laments, her eyes sad, “Why didn't you just tell me?”

He laughs bitterly, thinking about how many years they could have had together already if he had have confessed. 

“Because I felt disgusting and depraved for pining after my best friend's little sister. And my little sister's best friend come to think of it,” he says covering his eyes with his arm. “I didn't want Charles to find out and I was terrified of JB knowing. Most of all, I wasn't sure how you felt about me and I really didn't want to ruin whatever we had. I would have rather never spoken to you about it then to destroy beautiful synergy of the Cooper-Jones clan.”

She laughs softly, “I appreciate that you love me that much.”

When he turns to Betty, her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “I'm so glad that this happened. I have wanted this forever.”

He brushes the hair away from her face and kisses her softly. “This is the best thing that's ever happened to me in my life,” he says looking deeply into her eyes, “Betty Cooper, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

She kisses him back with earnest, pressing herself against him, mouth moving against his until he is gasping for air.

She stops kissing him briefly to ask, “Can you tell me about Tessa?”

He groans and wishes that they could go back to kissing. “I’d rather not,” he says.

The look she gives him would flay a man with a weaker spirit.

He laughs and shakes his head; he is never going to win anything in this relationship, is he?

“Fine,” he concedes, “But I won't talk about Tessa specifically, just more the theme. She was one in a long line of women who I thought I was in love with after one night of heavy drinking and sloppy sex, if I am to be utterly crass and perfectly honest with you.”

“I want you to be perfectly honest with me,” she says smiling. “Plus I've already told you how flattered I am about you wanting to sleep with me all this time. Despite wishing it were me rather than them, I'm just happy you were thinking of me.”

“Every time,” he promises with a smirk.

She hits him lightly on the shoulder, “You're not going to get out of this one Jones, so start talking.”

He sighs, and looks at her, “What do you want to know?”

“Where did you meet these women? What were they like? Did you actually like any of them?”

He starts, “I do recall most of them being hook-ups after parties or clubbing nights with Charles. Most of them, say ninety-five per cent, were blonde and I liked one or two of them over the years. But mostly, in the spirit of complete honesty, because that is what you want from me, mostly I just got wasted enough to think they were you and then woke up disappointed. It's not really fair to anyone to be disappointed like that after sex. I definitely felt bad for them, guilty about you, guilty about Charles,” he admits darkly, “Really there was a lot of shame going on.”

Betty bites her lip sadly, “Juggie, don't feel bad about that now, everything's worked out.”

He smiled at her, feeling loved. “How about I just tell you about some of the stupid shit but I got up to though? And possibly even some of the really awkward sex moments that I had if you want to hear about them?”

Betty laughs, “I would love to hear that.”

Jughead grins, emboldened by her enjoyment, “Okay so there was this time that I picked up this girl with the bar and she goes to put her number into my phone, and this whole time I thought her name was Dee because that's what she said, but then I actually find out her name is ABCDE, when she puts it into my phone and I'm honestly just so shocked and horrified that I judge that poor girl so harshly. Especially for someone who goes by the name “Jughead”. I pretty much just said “Nope, not happening” and walked away. Not my finest hour, I will admit.”

Betty covers her mouth with her hand to stop herself from giggling.

“There was this other time that Charles pretended to be my boyfriend to get me away from this woman who was harassing me at a bar,” Jughead says, smiling at the memory. “Yeah, so he sees me obviously looking really uncomfortable with this woman who was really persistent. I mean, so persistent despite me actively saying that I wasn't interested. Sweet Charles comes up to me and well – ah - he kind of kisses me on the lips…”

Despite Jughead having just revealed to Betty that he has kissed her brother on the lips, she seems to find it hilarious and is sniggering behind her hand.

“Oh you think that's funny, do you?” he asks, trying to keep the mirth out of his voice.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “It makes me laugh because Charles probably did it to make you feel uncomfortable. He can be like that sometimes.”

“You mean like JB?” Jughead clarifies.

“Kind of like all of us,” Betty says after a moment of thought, “We all like to make you feel uncomfortable, I believe.”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know that. I’m an easy target. Also both sets of parents are messaging me right now to know how dinner went? What’s with that?”

He watches as Betty flushes in embarrassment. 

“Uhh,” she says hiding her face behind her hands. “I may have accidentally told them all abut my plan to confess my love to you after you made me dinner while you were in interrogation…”

Jughead feels so mollified by the thought of Betty admitting that she loved him to his family and hers, and it’s almost enough to stave off the embarrassment of the situation. 

“How on earth could you _accidentally_ mention that to them?”

“Well,” Betty starts slowly, fighting a smile, “Mom called me while I was at the Sheriff’s department with you, so I answered and naturally your parents were there too!”

“Fine,” he concedes, “Alice called and you were obligated to answer. Because who knows, you could have been in a sex den with me or something… and Alice just happens to be with my parents. Great.”

Betty laughs lightly and shakes her head, “Yeah be thankful you didn't have to sit through that entire conversation. It was so humiliating. Your parents asked me about our sex life.”

“Oh my god,” he groans into his hands, then he looks at Betty between his fingers and says, “Honestly I'm glad it was you and not me having that conversation. So now they know? And they're not mad?”

She gives him a look. “No. Why would they be mad?”

“Well, Alice might be mad that I am debauching her youngest daughter?” suggests Jughead faintly.

Betty laughs loudly, “You've got to be kidding me, right?”

Jughead shakes his head, still looking at her between his fingers. “No way. I mean what I said. Both of our parents are probably talking about how creepy it is that I I'm with you.”

Betty giggles helplessly at his expression. “No way! I think they really love the idea of us being together, actually.”

He watches her pause for a moment and then she smirks, “Plus when I was leaving your house the other day – you know after the bachelor party?- I may have accidentally bumped into FP and Gladys on my way out of the house and back home.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Jughead asks incredulously. “No wonder they were so weird with me that morning. They heavily implied that I could invite people over anytime and it was odd because it seemed to be apropos of nothing.” 

Betty giggles, “Yeah Gladys invited me inside for waffles. She can't be all about mad. Plus, I'm glad they haven't directly told you about it because I asked them to keep it a secret.”

“Fuck,” Jughead laments, “I cannot believe this is my life.”

“Do you think they all went away to give us a clean field playing field?” Betty asks with a small smile on her face.

Jughead groans at the thought. “At this point I wouldn't put it past them. Such meddlers, oh my god, do they have nothing else in their lives to do?”

“You know they don't,” Betty says with a snort, “Also, I think that your dad is the main instigator because he’s obsessed with mysteries and clues. Although I do think that mum and Gladys have been gossiping about us for years. And also, did you know that they've been betting on our relationships?”

“Nope,” Jughead says firmly, “And I think I could have died happy without that knowledge, so thanks for that Betty.”

He can hear her gorgeous laughter and he decides that if this is his life, he will die happy regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there was your requested handcuff scene **DreamWalkLady** :)
> 
> ~~~
> 
> You may have noticed that I have updated this story to be part of a series. This is because I am planning to do a few codas, two of which I will post the two weeks following the completion of this story. So, if you like this story, stay in touch and subscribe to the series <3
> 
> Also, requesting good vibes so I can finish this story because I've been very distracted lately. You all know how much I froth a schedule!!!


	17. The Southside Serpents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to imagine the Serpents as a heavier and more female version of Halestorm, but that's just me. If you have a different opinion, hit me up in the comments <3

Despite Honey being in custody, Jughead is still concerned about keeping Betty safe at JB’s gig. They still haven’t found anything to tie him to the explosion, so he’s being cautious (much to Betty’s frustration).

Jughead asked Tim and Bryan to arrive at the Whyte Wyrm early to check the perimeter and to observe the metal goers. They have given him the all clear, although they strongly advised against both of them attending. 

Calling in some old favours, Jughead has all of his dad’s old deputies digging into Honey and his acquaintances. He must be one hundred per cent sure that Betty is safe before he closes this case. 

Jughead almost begged Betty not to go to the gig, for fear that she would be accosted and hurt (or worse) in the dark room filled with angry headbangers, but she had been very firm about attending. 

“It’s JB’s first gig since they got signed,” she said. “Plus, we both said that the whole car thing of mine would stay between us and your FBI friends, so we can’t exactly skip the show unless you want us to be arouse suspicion.” 

She then glared at him like he was going to argue. He wanted to, he really did, but she was completely right and he really didn’t want JB to know about Betty’s car bomb. 

“We could just say we lost track of time making love?” He half-joked and her eyes sparkled in delight. 

“We could but JB is way less likely to forgive me for missing her show for sex versus a life threatening situation, so hard pass on that,” she smirked and then added for his benefit, “We can make love, just not lose track of time…”

He knows that she has a point; he would feel incredibly guilty about not attending this gig. JB has spent most of her life working on her music and he is incredibly proud of her that she has made it this far. She auditioned for the Southside Serpents when she was sixteen, back when they were a simple garage band that just met on weekends to play some tunes and challenge each other musically. By that point, she had spent years in classical guitar lessons, making sure that her technique was impeccable. Her talent blew the rest of the Serpents away and JB was thrilled that she had managed to pull her weight in a band with people three years her senior. JB once told him that technical genius Fangs had actually cheered when she first started playing; he had loved her raw, powerful sound so much. Since that time, she has spent every day meticulously practicing more complicated songs, trying to write songs and more recently, learning how to scream. So he knows that he can’t leave JB behind, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling anxious about the whole night. 

When he walks into the Whyte Wyrm, he can see that the whole place is already set up with Serpent band banners, which are hanging from the ceiling and behind the stage. Their band equipment is all set up, waiting for the arrival of the rockers. 

Jughead spies Bryan and Tim and is pleased to note that both seem to look like they fit in, sporting black t-shirts and jeans. 

He tries not to pay attention to the entire room of the Whyte Wyrm looking at him and his fucking Charlie’s Angels inspired entourage. 

Jughead spent the afternoon working at the Lodge Mansion while Betty, Veronica and Cheryl worked on their “costumes” and spoke in excited tones about the gig that night. 

_Veronica has really outdone herself this time,_ Jughead thinks snidely as he eyes Betty, Veronica and Cheryl who are all dressed in ridiculous matching black and green cheerleading outfits emblazoned with Southside Serpent logos on the back. 

Veronica mentioned earlier that she drew inspiration from the River Vixen song, which gave her the idea to drive JB crazy. Jughead refrained from pointing out that JB was already crazy and her costume would make no material difference to his sister’s sanity. Cheryl, who seems to have chilled out a lot since school seemed incredibly enthused by the idea and mentioned a particularly lewd fantasy of Toni’s about Cheryl in a cheerleading costume. 

Jughead wanted to bitch about the absolute fucking cliché of getting hot under the collar and tight in the pants over a _cheerleading fantasy_ , but as soon as he saw Betty in her outfit, that’s _precisely_ how he had responded; staring at her long smooth legs and nearly drooling (wishing she could do the splits on _him_ ), so he shut his fucking judgemental mouth and resolved not to kink shame. 

Yet, when all eyes in the Whyte Wyrm fall upon Betty’s legs, he tries not to growl and tell them all to back the fuck off. He knows he’s riding a knife-edge of arousal and fear; which is manifesting as extreme protectiveness and possessiveness. He shuts his eyes tightly for a moment and begs the gods of music to let this night go smoothly. He doesn’t want to be the second Jones to be responsible for setting fire to the Whyte Wyrm. 

When Jughead opens his eyes, Veronica and Cheryl have gone to get a drink at the bar and Betty is looking at him with a concerned and endearing expression. He can’t stand how much he wants to pull at the black and green ribbon in her hair and watch it unravel.

“Hey Betty.” 

Jughead hears a voice and turns around to face the numbskulls: Reggie and Archie. They are both wearing black Southside Serpent t-shirts and Reggie is leering at Betty. Again. He wants to slam his hand into his face. Just what he needs tonight; these fucking morons. 

“Hi guys!” Betty says cheerfully. Not for the first time, Jughead wishes that Betty wouldn't be quite so inviting with her manner of speech. “I was just with Cheryl and Veronica, if you’re looking for them. They went to go get a drink.”

“Oh that's cool,” Reggie says casually, “We will just wait with you.”

“So how are things with you Betty?” Archie asks, puppy dog eyes on Betty. Jughead hates that he wants to slap that look right out of his face. “How was the wedding?”

“Oh,” Betty sighs, eyes glowing, “It was absolutely gorgeous.” She bounces on the balls of her feet in her black sneakers and Jughead watches in fury as both Reggie and Archie look at her chest. “The most beautiful day I've ever experienced.”

He watches as a blush suffuses her cheeks and wonders if she’s thinking about their evening together. 

“Isn't that right Jughead?” Betty turns to him for confirmation.

He nods and can't suppress a smirk that blooms on his face, “Yeah it was incredible.”

Archie and Reggie look between Betty and Jughead, pointedly, with eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

“Ohhhh,” Reggie says, with a note of teasing in his voice, “Did you two…?”

Betty blushes and something in Jughead snaps. “You two,” he says menacingly, pointing at them, “Read my lips here children: Betty Cooper is mine. Do you hear?”

Betty squeaks and her face flushes adorably.

“Nice work cradle snatcher, ” smirks Reggie gleefully.

Betty heaves a sigh and says, “Reggie, say that again and this time I’ll ask Jughead to hit you.”

“And I will do as my lady commands,” Jughead smirks and can’t resist flexing his muscles. Betty licks her lips, eyes hungry. 

Reggie laughs, uncaringly, “I came here to stir shit and have fun.” He rubs his hands together excitedly. “The party is just getting started, my friends. Shots anyone?”

Betty casts a look at Jughead and he shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure, shots. Why not? Give me the filthiest tequila you can find.”

Reggie grins lasciviously, “Filthy tequila for the pretty lady coming right up.”

He saunters to the bar with Archie in tow.

“Sorry Betts,” Jughead says, voice raw, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were my property or anything. I am really worried about you right now, so I’m probably a little unhinged.”

“Oh right,” Betty says, a small smile lighting up her face. “Okay thanks for telling me.”

He moves his hands back to her waist and pulls her into his embrace more firmly. 

“But you know, Juggie, that I consider you mine?” she whispers and his whole body thrums with electricity. 

“I am yours,” he promises her, kissing her temple. “I have always been yours, Betty.”

“Oh!” she exclaims in surprise, cheeks flushing. A radiant smile alights her face. “Jughead Jones, I am yours.” 

“I know,” he smirks and then lightly teases her, “But I do like to hear it.”

She pokes out her tongue at him, but she’s giggling and blushing adorably.

“Betts, you’re fucking incredible.”

Her soft smile morphs into a wide grin and she blushes. “You really think I'm incredible?”

“Beyond,” he assures her, his fingers softly stroking her cheek. “And, I have to admit that you look hot as all hell in that outfit. I hate to be so obvious and basic, but it's driving me wild.”

Betty giggles and blushes furiously.

“We can play a little bit later if you want?” She suggests lightly and the words send fire shooting to his loins. He moans distressingly. 

“There is nothing more I would rather do,” he assures her, “Just don’t get slammed on tequila.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Fine.” 

Then she pulls his face towards her own and catches his lips in a scorching kiss.

His whole body is alight with need as Betty kisses him teasingly, passionately, grabbing furiously at his t-shirt and gasping at his mouth. He’s hard again and hears himself moan as her tongue flicks out to touch his. 

“Are you sure we can't just go back home?” He says, almost pathetically against her mouth. 

~~~

Betty's skin is on fire as Jughead kisses her. It's as if her whole body wakes up as soon as he so much as _looks_ at her. She responds immediately, her body tingling all over with need, wanting more of his touch, wanting more of him.

She slides her leg in between his own and feels his erection brush against her hip. She moans and pulls him in tighter to her.

Betty is half convinced that leaving now would be the best idea, bar the fact that JB would destroy her for parting based on this reason.

“Um, cough, cough!” Reggie says pointedly. 

Betty regretfully tears her lips from Jughead’s and stares at the grinning group. Cheryl and Veronica hold vodka sodas in their hands and Archie and Reggie are balancing slices of lemons precariously on shot glasses. 

Reggie holds out a glass to Betty, who takes it gracefully.

“Bottom’s up,” he says and downs the shot, gasping as the acrid liquor hits the back of his throat. 

“I am gonna get fired up tonight!” Reggie cries, pumping his arms in the air repeatedly. He starts chanting “Serpents, Serpents, Serpents!” 

Nearby Serpent fans look upon him in amusement.

“The set is about to start,” Cheryl points out excitedly. “Shall we go up the front?”

If five years ago, someone had mentioned to Betty that both she and Cheryl Blossom would become friends over their joint love for a heavy metal band, Betty would have cried heresy. 

“Most definitely,” Veronica agrees, and they all make their way to the front of the stage.

Betty holds Jughead’s hand and pulls him along behind her, not wanting him to get separated from her in the crowd. She turns back and asks him, “Are you sure that you want to come in with us? It's going to get a bit rowdy.”

Jughead appraises her and raises both eyebrows. “I think I can handle it.”

“Okay,” Betty sings, with her hands in his, “But you have got to be prepared to mosh.”

He gives her an odd look, but doesn't say anything else as Fangs has walked on the stage. 

The waiting crowd screams in excitement as they see front man Fangs Fogarty take the microphone. 

Soon JB smashes through the back door and stomps up onto stage with her black Doc Martens, black shorts and singlet top. Despite the heat, she’s wearing the Pretty Poisons jacket in a salute to the venue and she lifts her Stratocaster over her head to riff a little. Betty has to admit that the new haircut has done wonders to show off her angular cheekbones and crooked grin.

“What is up my snakes?” Fangs yells at the screaming crowd. 

“Welcome to the snake pit,” JB death-growls.

Betty, Cheryl and Veronica start yelling in excitement and jumping near JB.

“Got some mad fans in the audience tonight,” JB says and points them out. “My girlfriend Veronica, my best friend Betty, my big brother Jughead and Toni's girl, Cheryl. Welcome my pretties and welcome to all you delightful snakes.”

She continues, “So, I was told that I came from a long line of fucking hard core rockers. Did you know that my own mother started the legendary fire at the Whyte Wyrm? That's right. We Jones are anarchists at heart and this sentiment is the foundation of the Serpents.”

“Let's get the rest of them on stage. Give it up for Toni and Sweet Pea!”

The crowd roars as Toni and Sweet Pea run on stage. Sweet Pea spots Betty in the audience as he settles behind his drum kit and blows her a kiss. Betty grins and waves in response. 

Fangs yells, “Okay, so let's fucking start this shit show, huh?”

The crowd screams in approval. 

“I’m going to start you off with one of my personal favourites. The title is a nod to every Fall Out Boy song you've ever listened to in your youth: _Is that a snake in your pants or are you just happy to see me?_ ”

Hardcore Serpent fans in the crowd are screaming at the top of their lungs as the band takes their first positions.

Sweet Pea counts them in with four clips of his drumsticks and then JB starts her popular power shredding, immediately jack-knifing the song to riotous. It's been so long since Betty has heard the Southside Serpents play live and the feeling in the entire room is electric; people are already sweating through their Serpent t-shirts; yelling and screaming for the band members to notice them as they thrash through their first song. 

Without her long hair JB can no longer head bang to the same vicious degree as she would normally, so she compensates by performing a series of rockstar hops and deep lunges, showing off her long legs. 

Cheryl and Veronica are screaming at the edge of the stage, reaching out to try and touch JB and Toni's legs as they move. 

Some guy next to Betty taps her on the shoulder. When she turns to him, he says, with a note of condescension in his voice, “I can't believe you like this music.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” she calls back over Toni's sharp vocals.

“Well you just look way too preppy to be caught dead at dive like this,” he responds, looking at her through eyeliner-ringed eyes.

“Well I know all the words to these songs,” Betty says coldly and then follows along as Toni sings: “I love the feel of the thick snake in your pants, let's let it the fuck out and fucking play.”

The man next to her leers, but his face drops as Cheryl appears at Betty’s shoulder with a filthy look on her face. “Stay the fuck away from my friend,” she warns menacingly through glossy red lips, “Or I will obliterate you. And _that_ is a Blossom guarantee. Toodles loser.”

When the guy slinks off, Betty turns to her, impressed. “Wow. You are boss.”

Cheryl gives her a grin. “Honestly I had all of this practice in school so I figured I better put it to good use.” She winks at her and then takes her hands, drawing her back in to the group.

The Serpents play all of Betty's favourite tracks. She loves these songs in particular, because either they give JB the chance to show off, or they are really easy to sing along to, despite all the lyrics being super sexual. She knows that sometimes the Serpents play much heavier metal with a lot more screaming, but she can't help the fact that she loves to sing along. 

~~~

Towards the end of the set, Fangs takes the microphone once more. 

“Now that you've had a little break,” he says to the crowd, “I want to get you riled up. I want to get you fucked up. I want you snakes to be writhing and spitting and fucking biting. So let's get this fucking going.”

JB tears off the Poisons’ jacket and her sleeve tattoo ripples over her wiry arms as she sets up. 

“This next song,” he yells at the waiting crowd, “I know you all know and love. It's everyone's favourite fucking song and I expect you to get fucking mental. It's _My Anaconda Does Want Some._ ”

Toni's voice heralds in a shocking cacophony of sounds, Sweet Pea is smashing out the double bass and Fangs’s fringe is curled over his eyes, strumming like his life depends on it. JB is down on her knees shredding madly, her fingers flying over the neck of a guitar. Veronica is screaming passionately, looking at JB with undiluted lust in her eyes.

Betty and Cheryl are jumping together, yelling and dancing for Toni, and Archie and Reggie are moshing like lunatics, hands raised in fists above their heads. She knows that she has lost Jughead, as he stands on the side of the room, watching carefully. At this point but she doesn't care, so deeply involved in the music and all she wants to do is flip her long hair back and forth over her head like she's head banging.

Cheryl laughs and joins in with the head banging, whipping her long red hair around in a full circle. When Toni takes a breath at the microphone she yells at them, “Yes! Whip it real good!”

When the Serpents get to the part of the song just before the breakdown, JB stops playing. The band peters off, looking at her in confusion.

“Sorry guys,” she says with a frown on her face as she stands up, “But this just isn't cutting it for me anymore.” She turns to the waiting crows, “This is one of everyone's favourite songs and all we're doing is head banging? Sorry it's not enough for me. I want more!”

“Serpent Queen!” Someone in the crowd shrieks.

JB lifts her fingers up in a horned salute. “Fuck yeah! You rule, whoever you are!”

She continues, “So we're playing one of our best songs for you snakes, yeah I know I stopped it right in the middle, but that’s because I’m a bitch. Now, I want something from you. I want you all to split the room.”

She yells into the microphone, “Yeah you heard me! Split the fucking room.”

She watches, yelling out obscenities at stragglers until everyone has made a large space in the centre of the room. She grins.

“Now I want you to all get as low as possible to the ground. Yeah crouch. Bend those fucking knees,” she calls, “When I count to three, you're all going to get up and run. You’re going to fucking run. I want to hear you screaming, chanting, yelling, singing and flailing your fucking arms as you run to other side of the room. Can you do that for me?”

A chorus of screams goes up around the room.

She grins widely, “I said: are you snakes fucking ready?” 

The screams get louder and higher in intensity, as everyone is crouched on the ground, falling over each other. 

“Alright I think they're ready,” JB says smirking at the rest of her band. “Want to count us in Sweet?”

Sweet Pea holds up his drumsticks in a cross over his head and then lets loose, slamming on the drums with such vigour that Betty can see sweat flying from his body.

JB starts shredding again and Toni accompanies her with her bass. 

Fangs stands at the microphone, and yells, “You snakes ready? One, two, three!”

All of the people crouched on the ground leap up immediately and run straight at the people at the other side of the room, creating a wall of death. Serpent fans flail their arms, whipping them around to catch people. A fight pit starts out in the centre and Betty is caught in the middle, laughing and feeling so alive as everyone is throwing punches to the sound of JB's super shredding.

Most of the guys around her are really big; way bigger than her and she feels a little bit intimidated as she tries to make her way to the edge of the circle. A man by the edge of the circle stares at her with a curious expression on his face and Betty gets the sense of déjà vu as she tries to place him, stilling in the circle. 

_Is that… was that guy from the trial?_ Her brain folds over itself trying to make connections and she stumbles aimlessly in the centre of the flailing Serpent fans. She searches for the man again, but someone jostles her line of site and when she rights herself, he’s gone.

She wonders idly if her mind is playing tricks on her.

She tries to exit the circle, but someone at the edge pushes her back into the middle, not letting her through. She's not upset by the move; it's a classic rock concert problem, but she still wants to get away from the Serpents fans that are wildly whipping their limbs around, trying to start fights with anyone who walks past. 

Suddenly Betty feels a pair of strong hands at her waist lifting her and taking her up out of the circle, back from to the moshing snakes.

“Are you okay there, Betty?” Jughead asks, his eyes worried.

“More than okay,” Betty grins up at him, “That was fantastic!”

Jughead holds her tightly with one arm and puts his other hand over his face and laments, “You really are addicted to danger, aren't you?”

“Are you danger? Because I’m addicted to you.” She purrs at him.

“Smooth Cooper, smooth,” Jughead says but he's smirking so she knows that he’s amused rather than upset with her.

“This next song is one of our latest and one of our greatest. You've probably seen some of our chin up challenges on Instagram. If not, get your ass on there now, but let's sing to River Vixen. I know that you all probably know a River Vixen in your life and this song is a celebration hot sensual bodies and the female form.” 

Betty knows that this is the only song in which JB will scream. The song is beautiful and powerful and fills her with a sense of arousal as she listens to it, remembering watching Jughead do chin-ups. She tries not to look at him too much, slightly embarrassed about that fact.

“Did you see the – ah - challenge?” Jughead asks her, curiously.

“Yep,” she confirms, feeling like she's blushing to the roots of her hair.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks confused, “You weren’t the one who was half naked doing chin-ups for six minutes listening to metal music.”

She hears herself release a breathy sigh.

“No reason,” she says, trying not to meet his eyes. “It was a good video though.”

“Oh yeah?” Jughead's smile is adorable.

Betty takes a moment to run her fingers from his clavicle to his lower abs, tracing over his t-shirt, to ghost the edge of his jeans, watching him shudder under her touch.

“I may have brought myself to orgasm watching it,” she croons.

“Fuck, are you serious?” Jughead whispers raggedly, eyes molten, “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I knew I went shirtless for a reason.”

Toni’s voice and the words: “I want to run my tongue up your inner thigh” filter through their conversation.

Both Jughead and Betty blush.

“I feel like JB is getting these lyrics from old Valentine's Day cards that I received,” Betty realises aloud, with a somewhat contemplative expression.

Jughead refuses to meet her eyes when he says, “I know.”

“Wait, what? How do you know? You were in the FBI at that point.”

Jughead grimaces slightly as he says, “JB has one of them pinned up against her wall, if I remember correctly.”

He continues with a note of incredulity in his voice, “How did you get enough explicit Valentine's Day cards to fill the lyrics for a six and a half minute song?”

Betty laughs, “I didn't get that many, and certainly none as explicit as the ones that Moose sent me to hide the fact that he was still in the closet.”

“Did you ever get any Valentine's Day cards Jughead?” Betty asks curiously, wanting to know if he knew the one his mom had sent him was from her. 

Jughead's cheeks are suffused with colour, “Uh yeah, just one. But it was when I was in the academy so it was a bit weird. Mom sent it to me with that photo of you and JB as Romeo and Juliet.”

“Oh yeah we missed you that year,” Betty confesses.

He smirks at her, “Did you now?”

“Yes,” Betty says, primly, “I would like to say that's partially the reason I sent you that Valentine, but it was really just cause I thought you were cute.”

“Were?” Jughead says playfully, “As in past tense?”

“Are, whatever,” Betty snarls through her massive grin, “You know you're good looking.”

“Oh, but I want to hear it from you,” Jughead croons softly at her ear. Then he says with a slight blush on his cheeks, “I kept it all these years, hoping it was from you actually.”

She quivers in his arms. “Should we get out of here?”

“We should probably say congrats to JB once this is done.” Jughead says, his tone regretful.

Betty bites her lip, “Fine, she is just lucky we didn’t have sex in the toilet cubicle at the Whyte Wyrm during her show.”

Jughead chokes at her ear, and then says, “You want it that bad huh?”

“Yes,” she whispers into his ear and smiles as Jughead shivers against her in anticipation.

~~~

Later, after the show, Betty has him pressed him up against the car door, running her hands up his torso to his shoulders, snaking her arms around his neck. She pulls him into the searing kiss, moaning desperately into his mouth.

Betty bites his lip, pressing her body flush against him. She has been riling him up all night, and Jughead is desperate to get his hands all over her tight little body, grasping at her hips and waist to bring her closer to him. Betty moans and rolls her hips, brushing against the length of his erection.

He fists his hands into her hair, drawing her sweet mouth closer to his, whimpering pathetically like he just can’t get enough (because he can’t). He needs more; but the exposed car park of the Whyte Wyrm is a pretty dangerous place even when people aren’t trying to blow up your future wife. Tim had checked his car out before they left and given him the seal of approval.

“Get in the car, Betty,” Jughead orders, his voice coming out as a growl.

Betty squeaks against him and practically throws herself in to the passenger seat of his car. When he starts the engine her hand finds its way to his upper thigh, stroking and caressing him.

He warns her in a cracked voice, “Keep your hands to yourself, unless you want to clean up the mess.”

From the corner of his eye he can see her shiver in anticipatory delight at his words and practically floors the accelerator to get them back to his place.

In the back of his mind he wishes he had foresight to book somewhere to stay other than his childhood room for this wedding, but no point in trying to change that now.

When he parks the car in front of his house, Betty practically sprints to the door.

“Come on Jug, I've been waiting all night for this,” she calls to him, practically setting fire to his skin.

She looks hot as sin in her dark little cheerleading outfit and he feels depraved and utterly despicable for wanting to run his fingers up her inner thigh and touch hot wet quim.

“Fuck Betty, you will be the death of me,” he promises as he tries to open the door, from around her desperate kisses.

On his third stumbling try, he finally opens the door to the Jones house and he chases her up the stairs. When he gets into his bedroom she's already kicked her shoes off and she's staring at him a dark look in her eyes.

“Jughead,” she whispers and kneels down in front of him.

He can't think, he can't breathe as her hands come up to his fly, to undo his jeans. He hears himself groan; a strangled sound that has been ripped from his chest. She drags his jeans down to the floor, insistently, and he watches through delirious arousal as she ghosts her hot mouth ghost his cock through his underwear. He wants nothing more had to have her wet mouth engulf him.

“Fuck,” he swears again and she pulls down his underwear. He almost comes entirely at the hungry look in her eyes, and runs through each word of the Miranda Rights in his head to calm himself down.

With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he thinks he hears Betty say, “Oh yes,” and then feels her kiss the head of his cock.

He lets out the yelp of surprise, wrenching his eyes open.

Her green eyes meet his and he’s insanely hard again at her glazed, dark look.

“Don't you want this?” she asks him sweetly.

“Fuck, of course I want this Betty,” he says as succinctly as he can while she runs her tongue down his length.

“Hnng,” he moans unintelligibly and is rewarded with a cheeky glance.

Betty, dressed in a black cheerleading uniform, kneeling before him with her gorgeous hot tongue tracing over his cock in his adolescent bedroom is honestly more than his brain can handle, and it takes all of his restraint and will power to stop himself from jutting his hips against her.

She licks him again. “Do you like that?”

“Just assume I fucking love everything you do,” he growls at her. She kisses his cock messily and dances her hands up his inner thighs. He gasps and tracks his fingers though her hair.

Betty grins up at him before she swirls her tongue around the head.

He cries out, desperately wanting more.

When she closes her pink lips around his throbbing cock, he is lost to the world, mumbling nonsense, speaking insanities, issuing profanities and she's revelling it, watching him through lustful green eyes.

Betty is exquisitely beautiful and her would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that this was something that he had previously fantasised about (a lot); the love of his life, Betty Cooper, kneeling in from of him with her perfect, beautiful lips wrapped around him.

She moans around his length and the vibration sends a frisson of electricity up his cock, bringing him to the edge of the precipice. He watches as her eyes flutter closed in pleasure and she pushes her blonde waves out of her face, taking him deep into her throat. 

She maintains her dark eye contact as she swallows his cock again and again, and he can see she’s got one hand up her skirt, pleasuring herself, and the thought of _that_ pushes him over the edge.

He jolts in her mouth but the movement jostles her and he slips out suddenly. 

Her mouth makes an “o” of surprise as he comes all over pretty Betty Cooper's (his _future wife's_ ) perfect chest.

He's standing there, half-mortified and half-aroused, watching as Betty looks down at her come-covered top, and looks back up at him.

“Sorry Betts,” he hisses, “I got a bit over zealous.”

“Mmm hot,” she purrs, “You can come wherever you like.”

Suddenly, he is hard again, like he's a fucking teenager.

“Huh,” he says, nonchalance ruined by his gritted teeth, “I will remember that for next time.”

“You do that,” she murmurs, and he watches her in blatant disbelief and arousal as she dips her fingers into the release on her top and sticks her fingers into her mouth humming in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groans desperately as he watches his beautiful love, sucking her come-covered fingers like some porn scene on his bedroom floor.

She makes eye contact with him again and says with a smirk, “So what kind of fantasies have you had about me in a cheerleading uniform that you wanted to act out?”

He flat lines. 

His mind helpfully deserts him at the crucial moment, going blank as he thinks too much about all of the fucked up little thoughts he's had about his vixen and her cheerleading outfit.

Instead, he deflects, “I don't remember the River Vixen’s cheerleading costume being this revealing. Maybe I've just gotten a little bit sick in my old age…”

Betty giggles, “Oh you're right, this one shows way more cleavage.”

“And way more leg,” he points out. He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Betts, can you get on my desk?” 

He watches her eyes flash in delight as she hops up onto his desk, crossing her legs at the ankles. 

“Shirt off please,” she says, tossing her hair back, “I like to see you while you work.”

He chokes slightly, but obliges, taking off his Serpent t-shirt before he kneels in front of her. He takes one ankle in his hand, looking up at her, flushed and aroused above him for a moment before he says, “You ask what I've been dreaming about? What I've been fantasizing about? Worshipping your body, my Betty, and watching you come undone under my touch.” 

She shivers at his words and Jughead presses his lips to the inside of her ankle, then slowly trails his mouth, kissing, nibbling and licking his way up her inner thigh. Her beautiful breathy sighs are pure torture and he loves the abandon with which she wraps her other smooth leg around his shoulder. He can feel her squirming under his touch as she presses herself closer to his face.

Jughead loves the feeling of having this much control over her, over _any_ situation with her involved.

When his lips reach the edge of her underwear, he bites on to the lace and tugs, loving the way she digs her fingertips into his scalp as he lifts her hips to drag them down her slender legs. 

Once he gets underwear over her ankles, he wastes no time in pushing her skirt back and kissing her clit. She moans delectably and thrusts her hips forward. 

Jughead loves how responsive she is, loves how she always does exactly what she wants. He loves how powerful and beautiful she is. 

He traces his tongue around her clit, listening to her sing his praises through a litany of gasping moans and breathy sighs as she rolls her hips against his face, writhing on his desk.

Jughead can taste her become more aroused, and feels the moisture pooling at her quim. He flicks his tongue over and lightly into her wetness, as his Betty cries out for more.

He curls one finger inside of her, delighting in the way she keens against him, driving herself onto his finger. He lightly pulls on her clit with his lips and she comes on done against his mouth, crying out his name as her walls flutter and clench at his finger.

She pants on his desk, chest heaving, watching him as he licks her release from his finger.

“Jug, I need you now!” She orders, spreading her legs. His heart stutters in his chest as he watches her splayed and flushed on his desk, demanding for him.

He hastily positions his cock at her dripping entrance. He leans forward and draws her mouth to his, kissing her desperately as she tilts her hips, seeking more of him.

“Anything for you,” he purrs, and thrusts his throbbing cock into her.

She's so tight, so magnificent and positively _filthy_ as she presses herself further onto his length.

“Jughead,” she moans, trying to take off her come-soaked top. She doesn’t manage to get it far, but it still exposes her perfect breasts. He dances his fingers across her nipples and Betty whimpers, begging for release.

She leans back and wraps her ankles around his head and he thrusts into her again, enjoying her gasps of delight.

She screams loudly as he starts to move more regularly, titling her hips to meet his movements. Her fingernails dig into his arms and she looks so incredibly gorgeous with her golden hair fanned out behind her and a desperate, glazed look in her eyes as she cries out for more. He gives her what she’s asking for, thrusting into her repeatedly until he feels the pressure build insurmountably.

“Jug, I'm going to…” His beautiful Betty says and she clamps down on him so hard as she arches her back and cries her release. He sinks deeper into her wet quim, which flexes against his rigid cock and he comes inside her with a groan, enveloping her body with is own.

Once they have finished panting and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears, Betty tips her head back and looks in his eyes with a smug expression on her face, “Okay so the cheerleader thing really does it for you. I've got it.”

She winks at him suggestively, and he just laughs as he kisses her into breathlessness.


	18. The Long-Awaited Ice Cream Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead get ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: gun violence (Neither Betty nor Jughead get hurt AT ALL)
> 
> See end of chapter notes for more information.

“Hi parents and second parents,” Betty smiles as the panel appears before her. The four of them are settled on a couch with the phone propped on the table like last time, glasses of wine in hand. 

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Jughead points out.

“Good morning to you too, second daughter,” FP says genially and then glares at the camera, “We’re retired, son, we can do what we like.”

“Plus,” Hal adds, “It’s raining outside, so we can’t hike. We figured we would do a movie and games day.”

The parents nod and clink glasses before taking a sip. Jughead snorts softly next to her. “Heathens.”

Betty giggles. 

“So nice of you to call us both together,” FP states, waving his wine glass in their general direction. “Is it official now?”

Betty takes Jughead’s hand and smirks, “Yes FP, you can finalise the bets now. Jughead and I are dating!”

“Yes!” Gladys cries and hugs Alice violently, their wine swirling precariously in their glasses. “It’s finally happened!”

FP and Alice hi-five over Gladys’s head.

“Oh my god,” Jughead whispers in a horrified tone of voice and he pulls at his hair, probably wishing he still had his beanie, “I cannot believe that these are my parents.”

Betty smiles endearingly at his discomfort. 

FP whips his head towards them and says, “So? Who confessed to whom first? We need to settle some debts here…”

Hal brings out a whiteboard with the odds on it and Jughead makes a weird screeching sound to her side. Betty thinks it would upset him more if she laughs, so she twists her mouth, bites her lip and then just coughs behind her hand. 

Jughead’s grip tightens on her hand and his expression is pleading. “End me!” he whispers dramatically and she rolls her eyes at him. 

“Let them have fun,” she says softly, pulling him to her side. 

“Yeah Jughead!” FP interjects, “Let us have fun! We are bored retirees!”

Betty scoffs, “Yeah what are you going to bet on now that this has happened?” She gestures between herself and Jughead. 

Alice’s eyes gleam in excitement. “Oh Betty darling, being boyfriend and girlfriend is the first step in the six point-,”

“Alice,” FP warns, “Let’s not give up the farm, shall we? We might sway them too much and throw off the odds on future bets.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Jughead exclaims irately and all the parents tilt their heads to the side and smile at him excitedly. 

“So, Jughead,” Gladys starts softly and Jughead’s anger leaves him immediately. “Did Betty tell you she loved you first or…”

“He told me Gladys,” Betty chirps happily, wrapping her arms around his midsection. “He told me first before dinner.”

“Oooh!” Alice exclaims and they all pore over the whiteboard. 

“What the fuck is happening here?” Jughead bemoans, fingers running manically through his hair. “What fresh hell is this?”

“Language son,” FP cautions with a rakish grin, “Oh look, Gladys won! She seems to be the only one who believes in Jughead’s romantic abilities.”

“Thanks mom?” Jughead snarls sarcastically, despite actually being pleased about this. 

Gladys smiles radiantly at him. “I always knew you had it in you, darling!” She pauses and then whispers, “Oh Jughead, you look so happy and I couldn’t be more thrilled for you. Both of you.”

Jughead lets out a long sigh and smiles. “Thanks mom,” he says softly. “I’m feeling really blessed actually.”

He turns to Betty and the smile he gives her melts her heart.

“Me too,” she whispers back. 

~~~

“Now that you have Honey in custody, can we please do something nice, just the two of us?” Betty asks him with those sweet doe-eyes of hers. 

Jughead makes a humming sound, because although they have Honey for the drugs and threatening Betty with the rat, there has been nothing to tie him to the explosion itself. Indeed, Honey has plead guilty to everything – even statutory rape – but not to blowing up Betty’s car, which worries Jughead immensely. 

“Please Juggie?” She bites her lip and stares directly in his eyes. “I’m going a little stir crazy inside when the weather is so great out there!”

_Fuck it, she’s so good at getting me to cave._

“Fine,” Jughead relents through gritted teeth, “How about that ice-cream date?”

Betty bounces excitedly on her toes and claps her hands. “Oh yes, that would be amazing! My reward!” She pauses and then smirks, “I have been rewarded a lot over the past week though…”

Jughead smiles and kisses her softly on the lips before whispering, “And you will be rewarded as much as I can physically handle at literally any point in the future.”

Betty cocks her head to the side and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. “Now? Ice cream can wait…”

He does not need to be told twice.

~~~

A few hours later they find themselves at the local ice-creamery “Game of Cones”, which has this really weird medieval vibe that Jughead does not enjoy ( as it reminds him of G&G games of his youth, but in a mocking way). 

Betty insists that their ice cream is (regrettably) better than that at Pop’s. Also, she mentioned that she really wants something called “Wanna lick me?”, a name that he initially misinterpreted, which is why it took them so long to get out of the house. 

Jughead is not sure why he has been so reluctant to acknowledge that he just _cannot say no_ to Betty when she asks for things. He acquiesces to take her to Game of Cones immediately like the love-whipped-idiot (is there an ice-cream for that?) he is and drives her with a foolish grin on his face. 

They sit at booth seemingly constructed from teaspoons with dragons carved into the wooden table before them. Jughead shakes his head in narrowed-eyed judgement. 

“Juggie,” Betty sighs while she digs into her ice cream monstrosity with glazed eyes of pleasure. The look in her eyes makes him feel hungry all over again. “What are we going to do now that the case is pretty much over?” 

“What do you mean, Betts?” he asks, dipping his spoon into the chocolatey mess in front of him. 

_Yeaaaah extra fudge…_

“What are _we_ going to do?” She clarifies, eyes concerned.

Jughead sighs around the spoon and hates the suggestion that leaves his mouth, “Long distance?”

Betty’s lips form a moue of disappointment. “Yeah,” she breathes, “I suppose…”

“I know it’s going to be the worst to be away from you,” he declares and she perks up a bit at that. “I will hate it too.”

She reaches her hand across the table (avoiding the raised dragon snout) and brushes her fingers along his forearm. “Will you come and visit me?”

Jughead takes her hands in his and rubs little circles with his thumbs. “Of course. I can be there every second weekend, or we can alternate? I’ll pay for your ticket of course.”

“Oh,” Betty breathes, eyes shining, “You’d do that for me?”

“I would do anything for you,” he tells her seriously, “This is going to benefit us both in any case. I don’t think I could survive until Cooper/Jones Christmas to see you again.”

Betty hums in agreement and Jughead bites the bullet, asking the question that has been thrumming in the back of his mind for the past week (read: few years). “Betts, I’ve been meaning to ask you… would you consider moving to D.C. after college? I’ve been doing some research and there are some very reputable papers there. We could see if Val knows anyone in them?”

“Juggie,” Betty squeezes his hands, “I am so touched that you’ve gone to all the trouble to look this up for me!”

He smiles at her and then raises both eyebrows. “Well? Are you going to move in with me once you graduate?”

She gasps, “You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“Yeah Betts,” he grins, trying not to roll his eyes at her shock. “I’ve been in love with you ages so I’m not about to let a little thing like distance stop us from being together.”

“Jughead, I would be honoured!” she informs him, eyes shining. She makes an adorable, excited noise and Jughead is overwhelmed by how cute she is. 

“Likewise," he tells her, voice rough with emotion, "Until then, I promise that I will call you every day.”

“It won’t be enough,” she says thickly, fingers digging in to his palms. “But I will take it.”

“I know,” he says with a small smile, “I feel like I’m already pre-empting the very feeling of desolation at the point of our parting.”

She smiles a little and shakes her head, “I love how dramatic you Joneses are.”

Jughead pokes his tongue out at her childishly. “Well, I love you.”

Betty gives him a gorgeous, brilliant smile.

“Hey Betts,” he starts softly, caressing the back of her hand, “What would you say if I stayed for the rest of the summer?”

“Oh!” she exclaims breathlessly, “Yes please! Then we don’t have to leave the bedroom for two months.”

He laughs delightedly and stands up in the booth so he can lean over and kiss her. The flavour of ice cream is on her lips and he wants to kiss it all away so he can taste her.

Once they decide that escalating their make-out session would be _improper_ , their conversation filters to the closing drug case.

“It’s kind of sad that the cheerleaders just got caught in the crossfire of Honey trying to cart drugs to the footballers. He hurt them because he was so terrified he would lose his job if it came out that he committed statutory rape. That’s messed up on so many levels,” Betty sighs once Jughead explains to her where they sit with the evidence. “Although, despite the drug dealing being a small time offence, I have to admit that Honey’s logic is pretty flawed. Drug dealing to protect his reputation as a teacher? What a stupid idea. He had to see that was a lose-lose scenario.”

Jughead snorts, “Not everyone can be as flawlessly logical as you, my love.”

Betty nods primly. “Very true, Jughead. Plus he was probably panicked. Ha! Now he has to atone for all his sins.”

“Yeah he will be punished. You’re so right, he was super panicked; Malachi threatened to break every bone in his body,” Jughead acknowledges, “I think Honey was more scared about messing up his pretty face than about getting his hands dirty…”

“So what happened with Jenny?” Betty asks curiously. “Why was she the most affected?”

“She wasn’t the only one with the tox screen that came back with both methamphetamines and amphetamines in it; all the cheerleaders who ingested the jingle jangle had the same readings. Jenny was more affected because she is very small, plus she takes Adderall for her ADHD,” Jughead explains.

“Ohh,” Betty hums, evidently pleased she was on the right track. “It’s nice to know that I was heading in the right direction. It still strikes me as odd that Honey would want to kill me though… Is it bad to say that I think he’s too weak to attempt it?”

“It also bothers me,” Jughead admits and hangs his head, “It is also the one thing he’s not confessing to, which I find really troubling. I mean, attempted murder is bound to attract a higher sentence than drug trafficking under coercion and statutory rape – plus Honey is privileged, white and handsome so he will get a pretty lenient sentence regardless… urgh, don’t even get me started on corruption in the so-called justice system… But, he knew who you were, spoke to leaving you the rat and a note to scare you.”

“Yes,” she murmurs and tugs absently on her ponytail. “But this all seems so small time… why would Honey want to murder me? That is the very definition of over-kill.”

She giggles at her joke and Jughead just shake his head at her penchant-for-danger attitude. Why is flirting with death so fun for her?

Jughead hums and confesses his frustration. “This thought has been literally consuming my mind Betts. I don’t think Honey tried to kill you. I think it was someone else… and that person could be out there, right now, trying to hurt you. It makes me sick to death with worry.”

“Ah so this is what you’ve been weird about,” Betty points out, spoon of ice cream hovering about her lips. 

“I prefer to think of it as “thoughtful” or “analytical”,” Jughead tells her, miffed.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course you do, that’s way more flattering than “broody” and “overprotective”.”

“I have not been overprotective!” Jughead snarls irately, stabbing his spoon into the ice cream like it has personally offended him.

“Oh yeah?” Betty smirks, tucking her hand under her chin and leaning in, “Tell me when you’ve left my side in the last week.”

Jughead opens and closes his mouth a few times in quick succession. 

Betty eats her ice cream with a smug expression he finds frustratingly endearing. Once she has licked her lips she tilts her head to the side and says, “Not that I’m complaining. I find it hot when you get all protective, even if you’re a bit crazy.”

“You’re crazy,” Jughead sulks and Betty grins at him. “And I’m crazy about you.”

“I know Juggie,” Betty smiles at him and reaches her hand across the table to take his in her grip again. She traces little circles with her thumb on the back of his hand. “I love you so much.”

A warm glow suffuses him, warring with the gnawing feeling of anxiety that arises when he thinks: _my future wife is still in mortal danger._

“Oh my gosh,” Betty says excitedly, “Does this mean that we get to construct a murder board?”

“With you at the centre?” Jughead says in a strangled voice, internally _freaking out_ about the implications of “murder board” and Betty being at the centre of the web of tangled red threads.

“Yes!” she exclaims, eyes shining, “Oh it will be so fun!”

“You’re so hot but weird,” he comments and she smiles at him, “If this weren’t your life in danger, I would be right there with you. However, right now, I just want you to tell me who might want to kill you.”

Betty tosses her ponytail and hums. “Not sure to be honest…”

She takes another spoonful of ice cream and a thoughtful expression crosses her face. “Hmm… you know who it might be? This guy sent me death-threats during Mrs Grundy’s trial. Her brother, Peter, I think?”

She starts suddenly, “Oh my gosh, it must be him! I saw him the other night at JB’s gig and-,”

“Someone sent you death-threats and I am just hearing about it now? And you saw him?” Jughead snarls pulling out his phone immediately, “How could you not mention this to me beforehand?”

Betty raises both hands in an expression of “what do you want from me?” and snaps back, “I didn’t think it was pertinent because it seemed to all be connected to the drug ring.”

Then she pauses and sighs, “Which is now not so much a ring as a kerfuffle…”

Jughead holds up a finger and says, “I am sorry, please just let me call Bryan and Tim.” 

Betty watches him, calmly eating her ice cream (seriously, does nothing bother her?) as he holds the phone to his ear, desperate for them to pick up. 

“Jughead,” Bryan says evenly. “What can I do for you?”

“Can you find out where Geraldine Grundy’s brother is for me right now?” Jughead asks without preamble. 

Betty taps his arm. “Or Jennifer Gibson,” she informs him, “That’s her alias.”

“Or Jennifer Gibson,” Jughead says, voice catching, “Please just do this for me? We think he might be the one that planted the bomb on Betty’s car?”

Jughead can hear Bryan typing. “Oh yeah, guy has some serious issues. He’s been laid off many times over the past couple of years, anger management issues, can’t hold down a job… and last known employment was a demolition company.”

“Fucking C4,” Jughead spits, recalling the car bomb with vivid realness as Betty sits in front of him licking her spoon. 

“Yep.” 

“Can you find him for me?” This is not a question, though it is phrased as one.

Bryan makes a sound of acquiescence. “Your future wife comes with a lot of danger attached, Jughead, it already sounds like a full time job,” he jokes. 

Jughead seethes, “Please just find him now.”

Bryan sighs, “You fucking owe me big.”

“I know,” Jughead says through a locked-jaw, “It’s all worth it.” 

He hangs up and turns to Betty, who is innocently eating her ice cream without a fucking care in the world. 

“I’ll admit that I’m pretty upset about this, Betty,” Jughead tells her firmly and she turns her green eyes on to his.

“Me too,” she confesses and bites her lip in worry. 

He reaches out to touch her face, cupping it in his hand and vowing with softness, “I promise I will look after you.”

Her eyes flick to his in bemusement and she smiles slightly. “Oh, I’m not worried about that.”

He frowns. “What are you upset about?”

“After all this pain and frustration… it will all amount to nothing,” Betty complains and scrunches her face. He hates that he finds it adorable, and given the context, he assumes she will next say something ridiculous. “My story won’t be good now! I was hoping it would be big. This whole thing has been super disappointing! What was the point of the car bomb, then? I feel a bit like the universe has taken advantage of me.”

Jughead can’t help but bark a laugh at this. _Of course_ while he’s here worried about her life, she’s thinking about her story! Of course! Because why would Betty Cooper react _normally_ to dangerous situations?

She’s sweet and wild in all the ways that make him crazy for her. She’s impossibly sexy, supportive and loving, headstrong, confident and the fact that she can get him to do _whatever she wants_ is a kind of weird turn on for him. 

_Fuck, she’s perfect for me._

Betty rolls her head and massages her neck with a put-upon sigh. “I guess I’ll have to write two smaller pieces now.”

Jughead can’t fight the grin that springs to his face at her petulant expression despite her _life being in danger._ “That’s a pity, Betts, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrow as she glares at him. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

He bites the inside of his mouth and shakes his head. “Nooo, never.”

She reaches over with her cold spoon and taps him lightly on the nose. “You’re such a liar, Jughead Jones,” she croons at him, eyes sparkling. “But you know I always get the truth out of you.”

“Your interrogation techniques are second to none, Betts,” he assures her, shivering in delight at the sheer memory of that particular session. 

Betty nods, expression immensely pleased. She sighs and says, “Jug, I’m just going to use the washroom. Don’t worry, it’s inside.”

Jughead feels a sharp spike of panic shoot through him at the idea of her going somewhere that he cannot see and Betty rolls her eyes and says, “You’re not seriously planning on following me in there, are you?”

He _is_ sincerely contemplating it. “No,” he hedges, “But take your phone, okay?”

She smirks at him as she gets up and flounces towards the counter to ask for the door key.

He shakes his head, acknowledging that _she will_ be the death of him, and he’s fucking loving every minute of it. 

Good lord, she was right: he _is_ a masochist. 

~~~

Up at the counter, Betty puts on her best winning smile. “Hi there! Do you mind lending me the key to the washroom?”

The boy at the counter takes a key off the hook on the wall and hands it to her; it has a little dragon key ring, which for some reason makes her think of the little Hungarian Horntail Harry chooses for the Triwizard Tournament and she makes a cooing sound of approval. 

“The washroom is through that door and out the back,” the guy tells her with an amused expression. “The one inside is out of order.”

Betty nods absently and looks over to the booth where Jughead sits, watching her. He’s on the phone – presumably to Bryan and Tim and his expression is set. Not wanting to interrupt him, she points down the hall and he nods, mouthing the words, “Be careful”.

She decides to be responsible and send him a text: **Washroom inside is broken, FYI.**

She walks down the hallway and out into the back alley, sneezing as the sunlight hits her retinas. She hums in pleasure as the warmth from the sun’s rays caresses her skin and notes with pleasure that the opposite fence in the alley is covered in fragrant star jasmine. 

Betty turns to see the toilet door and uses the key in her hand ( _Hehe dragons_ , she thinks to herself) to unlock it. There is no one inside and Betty checks every stall just to be on the safe side. 

She sings “My Anaconda Does Want Some” pretending to have the richness of Toni’s voice as she goes about her business. 

“Wow, those lyrics are so sexual,” she muses aloud as she washes her hands at the basin, pleased when the soap dispenser provides her with soap, a real luxury in public toilets.

Betty is tossing the dragon keys in her hand as she exits the washroom, humming Serpent songs to herself.

“Betty Cooper,” a familiar voice says and Betty turns on heel to stare at an older man, whose face is remarkably familiar. Her breath catches in her throat as she sees the handgun levelled at her chest.

Geraldine Grundy’s brother.

“Oh, Peter,” she says softly, wiping her sweaty hands on her sundress. She smiles sweetly, despite her heart pounding in her chest. “How are you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snarls as his right hand twitches. The look in his eyes terrifies her; the whites are showing and his pupils are blown wide. His lips twist into a grimace. 

Betty licks her lips nervously and tells herself not to move. 

“How do you think I’m going?” he spits at her irately. “You put my fucking sister in jail!”

Betty says nothing, but just tries to dial Jughead’s number discreetly at her side. Her fingers are slippery with sweat and she can’t unlock the damn thing. Fucking biometrics. 

“She was everything to me, my sister,” Peter tells her, gun trained on her as he watches her. “She looked out for me when no one else would. Without her, I am as good as homeless or dead.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Betty says sincerely, hating that her voice breaks when she speaks.

He glares at her. “We were fine before you came at put your nose in her business and ruined our lives. I am here as retribution after my car bomb didn’t work.”

Betty gulps as her heart hammers in her chest, staring down the barrel.

_Think Betty! You’ve got this!_

~~~

Betty has been gone for a while, and Jughead watches her ice cream melt with increasing discomfort.

“Hey,” he asks the waitress next to him, “May I use your washroom?”

The waitress looks at him with a pleasant expression. “Sure. Ours is closed for renovation, but there’s a public one that’s just out the back.”

Jughead feels his blood run cold. 

Without thinking, he grabs his gear and sprints through the ice cream shop, down the corridor and out into the back alley. He runs outside and rounds the corner.

What he sees makes his heart stop. 

~~~

When Jughead flies around the corner, Betty feels simultaneously relaxed and super stressed. 

Thoughts of _thank god he’s here!_ war with _oh no, he could get hurt!_ and she tries to keep her eyes on Peter so he doesn’t notice Jughead. 

_Keep him talking!_ Her brain reminds her, _You’ve got this!_

Betty puts on a contrite expression and says to Peter, “I’m really sorry that your sister being convicted has impacted your life-,”

“Ruined, you mean!” Peter spits, flicking the gun erratically in her direction. 

From her peripherals, she sees Jughead pull out his Glock and take a well-practiced stance as he stalks up to them, and Betty finds herself getting a little turned on by his stealth. 

_FBI, right,_ she muses, _He knows what to do here, Betty, let him handle this. And STOP trying to undress him with your eyes, baby girl, this is SERIOUS!_

“Yes,” Betty allows, “Ruined. But is killing me really going to help your situation?”

“I don’t fucking care!” Peter hisses, “This is karmic retribution, bitch! When I saw you in town the other day, I knew it was you from the trial. I thought this would be the perfect chance to get revenge for my sister.”

Jughead stills and Betty’s eyes flick unconsciously towards him.

That movement, combined with the sound of Jughead cocking his gun, startles Peter. 

He snarls and rotates the whole way around to face Jughead.

 _This is your cue!_ her brain screams at her. _Protect Jughead!_

Betty wastes no time as she sprints towards Peter in her sandals, ankles wobbling treacherously on the uneven paving as she launches her body towards him.

Jughead immediately sees what she is doing and orders, with fear and anger lacing his tone, “Get down, Betty! Now!”

She ignores him, as Peter twists back to face her, confused. It’s perfect because he’s caught between them both, trying to spread himself too thinly in covering his bases. 

Jughead’s desperate cries of protest wash over her consciousness as she hurls herself at Peter’s back and pushes him bodily to the cobblestone alley ground. 

_Yes! Well done!_ She congratulates herself as the gun smacks against the stone. She delights in the sound of her winding Peter as she digs her knees viciously into his back. _Jughead is safe!_

“Betty! No!” she hears Jughead holler at her, but she’s already grabbing at Peter’s forearm trying to force the gun from his hand, scratching him up like a wild cat. 

He screams as her fingers rake his flesh and she does it again, harder. 

Jughead, looking gorgeous and angry, materialises at her side and stomps heavily on the gun and Peter’s hand. The man cries out in pain and Betty hears a bone snap under Jughead’s heel.

Jughead’s voice is hideously furious as he snarls, “We’ve got you, release the weapon!”

Betty pushes her knees into Peter’s back, enjoying his gasps of pain and repeats, menacingly, “Yeah, we’ve got you.”

Jughead makes a weird sound and keeps his eyes and gun pointing at Peter. He forcefully kicks the gun away with his heel, ignoring his cries of pain. 

“Betty,” Jughead snarls at her, “Can you please get off from Grundy’s back?”

She nods numbly and Jughead takes her place, handcuffing Grundy’s hands behind his back, heedless to the man’s writhing and incessant swearing. 

Betty definitely hears him yell, “I should have stabbed you at that gig!” But does not find it within herself to care.

Jughead leaves him on the ground and whips out his phone, calling Tim and Bryan. His face dark and furious. “Yeah we got him,” Jughead hisses, looking desperate to kick the prone man.

When he looks at Betty, his expression melts into one of anxiety and utter relief. His eyes flutter closed and he mouths: _Thank fuck you’re safe._

Betty releases the breath she didn’t realise she was holding and shudders. 

~~~

Jughead does not let Betty go.

From the moment he secures Grundy and he sweeps Betty into his arms and holds on to her for dear life while he handles procedure. 

He’s lucky he knows how to do his job, because right now, his brain is a mess of _holy fuck she could have died_ and _I need to make sure she’s okay_ and he’s fleetingly impressed that due process is followed despite his manic thoughts.

Betty presses herself against him, breathing into his t-shirt and shaking. He wants to comfort her; he wants to tell her that everything will be okay, but first he needs to make sure that everything is functional and that Grundy will be brought to justice. It wouldn’t serve either of them to ruin the chain of evidence now. 

Tim and Bryan’s arrival is a hazy to Jughead. He knows he speaks to them, he knows that he informs them of what transpired and he recollects vaguely that Betty also provides some details that seemed crucial at the time, but those thoughts are vapour and he finds himself clutching in thin air of his consciousness as they dissipate. 

_Betty could have died._

The moment they assume control over the scene, Jughead picks Betty up, ignoring her squeals of protest, and carries her to the car. 

When he puts her down, he rounds on her and checks every little inch of her. He runs his fingertips gently over her exposed skin, watching her shiver underneath him.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers, voice catching horribly in his throat. 

_Please be okay._

Her eyes are molten when she stares at him. “I’m not hurt, Juggie, I promise.”

_Please be okay._

“I’m taking you to hospital to get checked out,” he hisses, his tone shimmering with fear and stress.

“Jughead I’m fine!” she protests hotly, leaning into his touch with force, “I don’t need to go to the goddamn hospital!”

“Forgive me if I want a professional opinion and I don’t just _take your word for it_!” he growls back in response, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You’re so reckless Betty, holy fuck, that stunt you pulled gave me a heart attack, I swear!”

“He pointed a _gun_ right at the love of my life!” Betty screeches and pushes him up against the car, pinning him to the door. Her eyes are furious as she stares at him and pokes at his chest. “He could have killed you, Jughead, and that would have been the worst thing _ever_! You could have died because of me!”

“How do you think I feel?” he snarls back, gripping her shoulders tightly. His heart is still hammering in his chest and he tries not to think too much about the implications of what just happened. “I'm _trained_ for this Betty! You're not!”

Betty bites her lip in worry, "Juggie, you're right... I'm sorry for being reckless and causing you distress. I'll get training next time, I promise."

He wisely chooses to ignore that last addendum.

"My heart stopped when I came outside and saw him with his gun on you! I…" Jughead stops, chest heaving and chokes, “I think I’d die without you.”

Betty makes a sound and he glares at her as if daring her to argue. “I know how you feel,” she says softly instead. 

He feels his anger drain from his body as he stares into her soft green eyes. “Yeah?” he says, taking his vice-grip from her upper arms and pulling her against him. “You can’t leave me, Betty Cooper, you’re everything.”

She shakes her head, “You’re so silly to think that I would ever leave you.”

“You know what I mean,” he growls, burying his face into her hair and breathing in her scent, tethering himself. 

“Right back at you Special Agent Jones,” she says firmly and he concedes that she has a point. “Given our lines of work, we might have to get used to it somewhat… 

“Don’t say such things,” he whispers fiercely but the pounding in his heart belies his words. 

His loves smiles at him and presses her soft lips to his. “Juggie, I love you and I have loved you for a really long time. I will never go anywhere without you.”

“Promise?” he gasps between kisses. 

“Definitely,” she moans against his lips. “Now take me home and make love to me.”

He’s desperate in so many ways when he blurts, “Of course.”

~~~

They barely make it into the house and Betty reaches under her dress and takes off her underwear. Jughead tugs at the buttons of his shorts and her fingers raked over his chest to rid him of his t-shirt. 

His shorts and underwear hit the floor and he kicks them away with more haste than he’s ever experienced, wanting to feel her silky skin all over his as he holds her in his arms. 

“Betty, I love you,” he tells her, pulling her into his arms so he take unzip her summer dress and peel it off. His lips trace a line down her neck, bushing the hair back from her face as he nibbles his way down, drawing a line with tongue between her breasts as he undoes her bra and throws it aside. 

He can feel her chest heaving, breasts brushing his jaw and Jughead moans, turning his face to nuzzle at her, fingers dancing along her ribcage and up to the soft seams underneath. 

His Betty mewls and arches her back, head resting against the closed door as Jughead’s mouth finds her peaked nipple and captures it between his lips. 

Betty’s hips tilt towards him and his erection brushes her slicken core, causing him to release a shuddering sigh. 

“I love you so much Juggie,” she gasps as he laves her nipple, sucking and nibbling on the taut nub as she squirms against him. He presses his leg in between hers and can feel how _wet_ she is as she grinds herself desperately on his thigh, leaving her moisture behind as she moves. It's filthy and gorgeously hot. 

Her nails dig into his shoulders as she pants and Jughead can see the heat in her green eyes when she looks at him. “Inside please,” she begs, cheeks flushed in arousal and he nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Jughead lifts Betty into his arms and presses her against the door. Her eyes fly wide open as his cock presses into her entrance, stretching her. 

“Oh!” she gasps and her head tilts back, pressing her breasts against his chin. Jughead lowers her down over his length until he fills her completely, watching in pleasure as her eyes glaze over. “Yes, Juggie…”

She’s purring at him, a mix of gorgeous, incoherent sentences as he drives into her. He delights in the way she grasps at the door behind her, trying to find purchase as he gives her only his cock as an anchor. She is beautiful, transcendent as she moans and hisses, running her fingers through her golden tresses and rolling her hips in response to his movements.

He can feel her dripping around him and clutching at him, and he is sweating in the brutal summer heat, desperate to feel the realness of her glorious body and to claim her as his own. 

Her breathy sighs soon become cries, which he _fucking_ loves and before long Betty is chanting, “Juggie I love you so, so much, you’re so perfect…” and he can’t stand how close that makes him, how much he thrills at hearing those words uttered from her pouty mouth as he pulls her down repeatedly on top of him, with increasing desperation. 

Her quim grasps him with impossible tightness and he chokes into her hair, breathing in her summery scent and her keening cries as she comes apart around him, issuing his name in praise. 

As he feels her walls ripple around him, Jughead thrusts into her with abandon, pulling her against him into a hug, “Betts, you’re my forever,” he gasps into her hair as he is flung off the jagged edge, coming inside her perfect body. 

His future wife trembles against him in the aftermath of her orgasm, humming in pleasure. 

“You’re my forever too, Juggie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The man that has been trying to kill Betty shows up at the ice cream date and threatens her, then Jughead. The man is successfully disarmed and everyone is safe <3


	19. Promises of Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to **redcirce** whose previous comments inspired a good section of this dialogue.

“Mmm this looks so delicious, Jughead!” Betty coos delightedly, looking around at picnic Jughead has prepared for their “one week anniversary of love confessions”. When he told her his plans she had to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself from giggling at him. 

_He’s too adorable…_

They sit beside the long, spiralling branches of the weeping willows near Sweetwater River, on a sunlit patch of grass, which was expertly chosen by Mr Romance himself. 

Jughead produced a variety of delicious treats from the picnic basket ( _He has a picnic basket, like, who even is this man?_ ), and Betty eyes the strawberries with a sense of mischief, already imagining reliving their Christmas moment as she has so many time in her fantasies. 

Jughead blesses her with her favourite crooked grin, hair cascading over his blue eyes. He looks so cute and she wants to run her tongue all over his skin, lazily, under the hot summer sun. 

With Honey and Grundy both behind them, Jughead has returned to that relaxed and smirking guy from the morning before her car exploded. He’s impossibly tender, super sweet and unendingly loving. She has caught him singing sappy love songs to himself when he thinks she’s preoccupied and one time she walked in on him dancing by himself in the kitchen. It was too beautiful a moment to pass up, so she shed her clothes before interrupting his movements and revelled in the way his embarrassed blush at being caught turned into scorching arousal. He made love to her on the floor.

She watches through her lashes as Jughead leans around her and picks up a strawberry, bringing it to his lips. 

_Mine,_ she thinks possessively, and reaches out to catch his wrist her fingers.

He raises one eyebrow at her and smirks.

“Oh,” she purrs, enjoying the way his eyes darken as he looks at her. She turns the tables around in their previous Christmas interaction by saying, imitating his deep voice, “Is this my reward?”

Jughead chuckles as he watches her guide his fingers towards her mouth. She maintains direct eye contact as she licks her lips. 

“Mmm mine,” she whispers and arches up, bypassing the strawberry to devour his pretty mouth. 

Jughead makes a cute squeaking noise of surprise as she pounces on him and kisses him into breathlessness, holding his chest down with her hands. 

“Such a perfect reward,” he agrees, sighing against her mouth as she flexes her fingers, pressing them into his skin. 

“I’ve got to replay the past with how I think it should have ended,” Betty jokes, pulling back to brush her lips lightly against his. 

Jughead moans, “Oh that would have really made Christmas special.” He pauses briefly and presses a kiss to the corner of her smirking mouth and concedes, “Made my whole year special, I think.”

Betty snorts, “Well, it could have ended like that if you hadn’t brought back T-,”

Jughead claps his hand over her mouth and hisses at her with mirth in his eyes, “Don’t besmirch our day with that witch!”

Betty tries to speak but her voice is muffled behind Jughead’s hand. When he releases at her, she glares at him and sniffs primly. “You were the one who brought her to the sacred Christmas gathering! I thought you had to be in love with her or too much of an idiot to do that.”

Jughead puts a hand on his heart and smiles at her. “I am glad you just decided that I was an idiot Betty, that’s very kind of you.”

She pokes out her tongue at him and says, “What would you have done if I had have told you that I thought she was really good for you? A perfect match?”

Jughead gasps loudly and clutches at his heart. “Oh my god, Betty,” he says, eyes wide and horrified, “I think I would have died.”

Betty laughs at this. “Why?”

“I was so hopelessly in love with you at that point,” he confesses, cheeks pink. “If you had have told me that we were perfect together I think I would have just walked out into Sweetwater River in the middle of winter and not resurfaced.”

She rolls her eyes and kisses him softly. “So dramatic, my Jughead.”

“Mmm I like the sound of that,” he hums softly against her lips.

“You being dramatic?” she jokes and traces her hand up his leg. “Even then?” 

He looks at her quizzically. 

“Even then, you loved me?” she asks softly, eyes on his warm blue ones.

He nods, looking flushed. “I said I have loved you for years… I meant it. That year in particular... after I drove _that witch_ to the airport and got her a flight home, you and JB waited up for me at your house so we could watch A Nightmare Before Christmas together...”

"Of course," Betty chirps, "You can never miss that movie, I know you love Tim Burton!"

"It was so touching, honestly," he confesses softly, "And then JB curled up against you and fell asleep and you curled up against me and told me that everything would be fine... and that one day I would find the right person." 

Betty watches as Jughead bites his lip and whispers, eyes intense, "I know I have. I've always known."

She hears her heart thud in her chest as he takes a small sip of air and admits, “I have loved you for longer than I care to examine… The earliest time I was smacked in the face with it was probably when I got that photo of you as Juliet. Plus, my insane wish for that Valentine’s Day card to be crafted at your hand… well that kind of clued me in to my own feelings.” 

Betty feels her heart glow and whispers lovingly, “We could have had years, you fool. You should have come to see me and kissed me or something! Anything! Instead, I kissed a different Jones.”

Jughead brushes his knuckles across her cheek and cups the back of her head to bring her in to an impossibly soft kiss. “I really regret not being there, Betts,” he admits, voice catching in his throat. “You said you missed me that night… I have that photo in my bedside drawer at home and it reminds me of my regretful decisions of the time. I’d like to think that I would have brought you flowers and chocolates or something to congratulate you on what was undoubtedly a wonderful foray into acting. Kissing JB notwithstanding.”

Betty nibbles his soft bottom lip and breathes against his mouth, “I would have liked that. I definitely had a few fantasies of you showing up that night too, but I think they were more M-rated than your romance scenes.”

She pauses and concedes with a roll of her eyes. “Fine, you caught me! They were really explicit. _Reaaaaally_ explicit. They all start with you accidentally taking off your shirt. For some reason, in my fantasies, your shirts are always incredibly flimsy and ill made. A sure sign of shoddy workmanship.”

Jughead’s laughter curls across her lips and his eyes sparkle in delight. “You know that I love you so much, Betty Cooper?”

“I know,” she smirks and kisses his jawline, enjoying his hums of pleasure as she moves her mouth closer to his ear. “I’m really glad that you’ve taken the rest of the summer off, Juggie. Any plans?”

“You mean other than spending every day trying to make my fiancée the happiest woman alive?” He asks her casually. 

Betty stills, her lips at the juncture of his ear and neck and breathes, “Huh?”

Jughead’s voice is light yet serious when he says, “I said the other day that when I saw your nickname in messenger that I couldn’t wait for it to become a reality…”

He takes a deep breath. “And the reality is that I can’t wait. I’m sorry Betts. A part of me; the sensible side of myself is asking me to take this slowly, because I want you to feel like you know me more as your lover and partner and not just as some guy you’ve known for ages from afar… yet the other part of me is begging, waxing fucking lyrical about bestowing upon you all these grand romantic gestures and I just can’t get it out of my head.” 

“Over these last few weeks I’ve watched you be bold, powerful, sexy as hell and frankly – _glorious_. I have been unearthed, overwhelmed and blessed to have you so clearly define a path to everything I’ve ever wanted… you.”

“So, here I am, taking a leaf out of the book of Betty Cooper: pursing what I want with a kind of dangerous abandon and throwing caution to the wind for once in my life…”

Jughead takes her hands in his and rubs circles over them with his thumbs. “I can’t – won’t – spend another day without the promise of forever with you.”

His eyes are molten, with a kind of toffee sweetness, and Betty feels her a shivery sensation cascade over her whole body like a succession of butterfly kisses. 

“Jug,” she murmurs, voice catching.

“My love, my Betty,” he whispers, eyes on hers, “Would you do me the greatest honour in becoming my wife?”

She’s all choked up, because _of course this is what she has wanted this whole time_ and her eyes flick down to the velvet box curled in his hand. 

“Of course Juggie,” she cries, heart in her throat. “Nothing would make me happier.”

He gives her the most perfect crooked Jones smile she’s seen yet and tangles his fingers in her hair to kiss her senseless. 

Her heart is racing a mile a minute as she tugs off his shirt, gasping desperately against his lips. Jughead is just as breathless as she is, their tongues dancing to a litany of needy moans.

Betty brushes her lips along every inch of skin she can reach: running her tongue along his collarbone, nibbling at the juncture of his neck and trailing messy kisses down his chest. 

Jughead’s fingers tangle and flex desperately in her hair, as he whispers in a choked voice, “I love you so much, Betty.”

When she licks one of his abdominals, revelling in the way he tenses under her touch, Jughead makes a growling noise in the back of his throat that she _adores_ and flips her on to her back, pinning her to the picnic rug. 

He slides his body on top of hers and she’s overwhelmed by how beautiful and how _smug_ he is – like he’s chuffed that he’s finally got her in this exact position and he’s all pleased with himself. 

It makes her feel sparkly and impossibly light and she purrs under his loved-filled, aroused gaze. 

“I love you so much, Jughead,” she keens, voice catching as she wraps her legs around his midsection. He moans as her inner thighs brush against his taut stomach. 

She licks her lips and watches his eyes turn hot and molten, and he takes his hands from her hair to run his fingers up her thighs. 

“Ooo yes,” she croons, rolling her hips against his erection, “Outside…”

“Fuck, Betts,” Jughead swears, grinning adorably as his fingers trace maddeningly light patterns across her sensitive inner thighs, “You’re so perfect it’s just…”

Betty takes his momentary incoherence to tilt her hips up and press herself against her fiancé ( _oooh! Fancy!_ ), delighting in Jughead’s gritted-teeth hissing in response. 

She’s dying to feel him inside her, wants to feel him fill her. 

“Just what, Juggie?” she pouts, reaching out between her legs to tug at his belt. 

Jughead watches her with dark eyes, panting, as she slides the belt from his jeans and undoes the buttons with a smirk plastered on her face. 

_Oh, I’m smug about this too, Jones._

She brushes her fingers over the head of his cock and he moans, leaning over to take her into his arms. 

He rolls them over so she’s straddling him, looking down at his beautiful face, framed by pretty hair and whispering possessively to him, “My fiancé.”

“Fuck Betts,” Jughead swears and bucks his hips up, the resulting friction making her mewl in pleasure. 

Betty pushes his jeans down and her own underwear to the side, while Jughead grips her forearms, steadying her. The expression on his face is nothing short of wondrous awe and she feels so _desired and loved_ that it makes her want to cry. 

She’s dripping and slick, ready for him, as she positions him at her entrance. She watches with gratification as he tenses from the delicious sensations and his fingers dig into her arms as she lowers herself all the way over his rigid length.

“It’s just,” Jughead chokes, eyes glistening, “I am the luckiest guy in existence…”

“Juggie,” she breathes, voice catching and coiling into a moan as she rocks her hips against him, “I’m just as lucky.”

Her hands are on his chest and he shakes his head, curling her over and tucking her flush against him.

“You’re everything,” he whispers, capturing her lips with his own. 

Betty feels every stroke, slow and sensuous ripple through her. The look in Jughead’s eyes is hot and sweet and she is grasping at the sensations, desperate to remember every single moment of this, every little look, gasp and kiss.

Jughead is murmuring their love song against her lips, imprinting his words and body in her and she feels that fizzy feeling cascade through her body, leaving her awash with beauty. 

She can feel how close she is, can feel each thrust with indulgent clarity and Jughead’s hands fist into her hair, angling her face so that she stares directly into his eyes. “Yes… I love how you look at me,” he confesses and drives into her again.

Betty keens and clutches at his chest, choked up and feeling utterly gorgeous by the worship in her _future husband’s_ eyes and the reverence in the way he holds her. She feels like she’s soaring; climbing a wild updraft as they move as one, breaths intermingling.

“Together,” he vows and she nods, breathless and panting as Jughead kisses her, hitting the perfect spot and they both crest together a tangle of sweaty limbs. 

“I love you,” she cries as the tingling feeling dances across her skin.

He holds her tight, eyes warm and loving.

After a few moments of staring in each other’s eyes, Jughead clears his throat. 

“Do you – um - want to see the ring I got for you?” His tone is nonchalant, although his expression is amused. 

Betty, admittedly, had lost all train of thought as soon as she took his shirt off. “Oh yes! I got a little distracted…”

Jughead laughs and Betty loves how happy he is. She has never seen him this carefree and beautiful, and everything feels incredible and right.

He leans across her to pick up the velvet box, and opens it to show her the ring inside. It takes her breath away. 

“I just wanted to get you something that was… unique and beautiful, like you,” he bites his lip and says, “Do you like it?”

Betty gasps and takes his face into her hands, “It’s gorgeous, Juggie, it’s perfect. You’re perfect… I… wow… Thank you so much!”

Jughead looks so pleased with himself that Betty wants to ride him again. 

_Soon,_ she tells herself. 

She lets him take the ring from its velveteen cushion and slide it over her finger. It’s a pear cut pink sapphire in white gold, surrounded by tiny, glittering diamonds. 

She holds it up, admiring it in the softly dappled light of the summer sun filtering through the trees. 

“Mmm Mrs Jughead Jones,” she hums and looks at him with sparkling eyes, “I think I could get used to that.”

He chuckles delightedly and pulls her on top of him for another soft kiss. 

“I want you to,” he smiles adorably and kisses the corner of her mouth, “You’re mine, Betty Cooper.”

“Forever,” she promises. 

“Fuck, you look so hot with that on,” Jughead confesses, blushing, “I kind of want to make love to you again, with you wearing nothing but the ring… Is that weird?”

Betty shoots him a cheeky grin and takes off her dress in broad daylight. 

“Here?” she smirks, loving his ensuing blush. 

“Wherever you want,” he purrs and pulls her into his arms, “My future wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's a wrap! Thank you all for your gorgeous and generous support over the course of my attempt at romance and zero angst!! Thanks for all the comments, encouragement and Tumblr messages. Thanks for making me feel loved and validated, I really appreciate it, from the bottom of my heart! You are all wonderful and thanks so much for being on this journey with me!!! 
> 
> **~~~ So What's Next for Summer Shivers? ~~~**  
>  1\. Next week: A coda in which Jughead and Betty announce their engagement to their family and friends  
> 2\. The following week: A coda in which Jughead and Betty enjoy a Cooper/Jones family Christmas (and then each other eyyyyyyy ***winks***)  
> 3\. Part 2 - a NEW MYSTERY, this time with proper investigative bughead! Sometime next year, so stay in touch!!!
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL! THANK YOU!!! <3 Georgie x x x


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